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Reed was weeping like a baby as the doctor cut the umbilical cord and handed my heart into my arms.
"Congratulations," he said, beaming. "It's a beautiful baby boy."
I looked at my son, his tiny face so perfect. He had Reed's eyes. The rest of his face was all me.
Reed opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I shot him a look of warning. "Don't you dare say, ‘I am your father.'"
He closed his mouth quickly and then opened it again. "But I am."
I chuckled. I looked at my baby again and again, almost as if it could never be enough. How could someone make me love so differently? How could I have my entire solar system outside the orbit of my body?
How could love be this big and sweet and painful at the same time?
And then, he wrapped his gnarly little hand around my index finger, and my heart just burst.
* * *
My mama,Leia, Miguel, and Asher came as soon as they could. I'd insisted on waiting before I gave tiny Mr. Baby a proper name.
Leia looked at him so adoringly. It was an evident case of love at first sight.
The boys were all equally smitten. "He's so perfect, Juniper," Asher whispered. "I–I've never seen something so beautiful."
Miguel touched the baby's nose gingerly. "When you're old enough, I'll teach you all about grenades."
Asher scowled immediately. "Miguel, I swear—"
"Hush," I said, laughing. "You guys can go fight in the reception later. Right now, we have to name the little one. Leia, what do you think?"
"Lucian?" she asked, her eyes lighting up hopefully. I knew she'd had this name picked out for an age then and there.
It was in the way she said it, reverence in each syllable. "Lucian Harold Davis Smith."
The way she'd remembered to honor the father I never got to know as one was touching.
I'd made my peace with being his daughter. I'd even told myself it was for the best, because whatever he'd done—it was enough.
There was ample love in my life, and I could, with what grace I had in me, let go of someone who had come in a little too late.
I looked at the men and then nodded quietly. I took Leia's hand while holding my baby close to my chest with my free arm.
"It's perfect."
Mama kneeled down to kiss my head before doing the same with her grandson. "When I tell you you're the most beautiful little boy," she crooned, her eyes tearing up.
She had been so strong—she had given me the best childhood she could, given her circumstances. And I hoped I could do the same.
My son looked up at me. It didn't matter what he saw, but I knew what he felt because his face erupted into a ferocious little grin, and he buried it into my chest.
I could tell you I was reborn. I could tell you I was, in that moment, saying a hundred thousand thank-yous to my body for what it had done for me.
It would still fall short of everything going on in my heart.
Light of my life,
Sword to my sheath.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
