Epilogue

Lily

9 months later

“It’s a boy!” The doctor cries out triumphantly from between my knees.

My son’s first cries of life are like music to my ears.

“You did so good,” Matthew murmurs, peppering my face with kisses. “So good.” He beams down at me, looking every inch the proud, happy father.

I smile weakly up at him.

I’m exhausted but happy that the pain is done. My labor was fast, faster than my previous two, but the most painful one yet.

It was worth it though, so worth it.

The past few months haven’t always been easy, but Matthew has been by my side the whole way, and it feels like every day I fall more and more in love with him. He’s so good to me, he treats me like a queen, and he’s amazing with the kids. You can tell he loves them, really loves them.

And true to his word, after he sent his message there have been no more attempts on our family or his operations. We’ve been safe, happy, and prosperous.

There’s a flurry of action at the end of my bed. The nurses whisk my son over to a little station that’s been set up, taking his weight and vitals down while the doctor finishes up attending to me.

“How do you feel, Lilith?” The doctor asks, rolling away from my bed and standing from his stool. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash.

“I feel good, just tired.”

The doctor nods. “That’s to be expected. Everything looks good, but you should take it easy for a few days. Do you want something for the pain?”

I shake my head, “No.”

Matthew says over me, “Yes.”

I frown up at him.

He meets my glare and straightens from his bent position, now towering over the side of my bed. “Lily,” he admonishes me.

“Fine,” I sigh, giving in. I don’t have the energy to fight over this. “I’ll take something.”

“Good,” The doctor smiles, looking between us. “I’ll write up the script and someone will be around shortly with it. Do you have any questions?”

We both shake our heads.

“Well, then,” he steps forward, sticking out his hand. “Congratulations. I’ll be around later to check in.”

After shaking hands, we both say goodbye to my doctor and thank him. Then I wonder what’s taking so long with the nurses.

Is something wrong? Did they find something? I can hear a bunch of chattering coming from the station, and my son is no longer crying, but they haven’t returned him to me yet. It’s crucial that my son and I start skin to skin contact.

After a couple more minutes pass I look up at Matthew. “What’s taking so long?”

“I don’t know,” he frowns. “I’ll go check.”

Reluctantly peeling away from my side, Matthew walks to the back of the room and greets the nurses.

“Is everything alright?” I hear him ask.

“Oh yes, yes,” the nurses reassure him and one of them giggles. “He’s just so beautiful…”

“He’s like a little angel,” one of them sighs.

“In my twenty years working this ward, I’ve never seen a baby as cute as him.”

I don’t remember the nurses ever fawning over Adam or Evelyn this much after they were born. I have to wonder if these are actual nurses and not their younger, less experienced assistants.

I hear Matthew thank the ladies and then he asks if he can hold his son. Eagerly the nurses help him take our baby into his arms. Turning back to me, Matthew beams, walking carefully back to my bed.

Sitting up eagerly, I hold my arms out, accepting my little bundle. Matthew bends over me and we both gaze down at the little person we created.

“He’s perfect,” Matthew sighs and leans down, kissing first his head then my head.

“Yes,” I softly agree with him.

Our eyes meet and we share a moment of pure contentment. Then Matthew nods at me and takes a step back.

Unwrapping the blanket he’s been swaddled in, I take a moment to brush back my son’s blonde, downy hair and then I bring him up to my breast.

He latches without hesitation.

“You sure about the name?” Matthew asks and it’s obvious he still wants me to reconsider it.

We’ve been going back and forth on this but I’m putting my foot down. He, for whatever reason, wants to name our son Damian. I, on the other hand, would rather name him after my grandfather, David.

“Yes, I’m sure. I still like David best.”

“Very well,” he sighs as if it pains him to give in. “David it is.”

“Thank you,” I smile, happy and relieved I no longer have to fight him on this.

“You know I can always have it changed later…” he grins playfully.

“You wouldn’t!” I gasp at him.

He chuckles and nods his head. “I wouldn’t.”

Little David nurses for some time and after a while the hormones start to kick in. Feeling incredibly sleepy, I start to drift off.

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