Hattie steps forward and wraps her arms around me. “Thank you, Easton. Thank you for saving my baby tonight. And for loving her.”
I return her embrace before making my way through the twisted hallways of the hospital. I leave emergency and trauma and enter another wing that hit me in the gut when we got here tonight. It was such a sucker-punch, I’m surprised my own two feet were able to follow the gurney Ellie was being transferred on. I might’ve been holding her hand tight, but it was really her holding me up in a way that allowed me to fight off the ghouls that have haunted me for years.
I go through the doors of maternity, where they whisked her as soon as she refused an x-ray and every other test they wanted to perform to see what sort of internal damage she had. It was then she might’ve announced to the room—but her eyes were only on me, speaking straight to my fucking soul—that she could be pregnant.
History. It can tear you up and put you back together in a way you’ll never look the same.
Here we are, ten years later, on the other side of hell.
And I feel like I can finally breathe.
I push through her door to find her sitting on the side of the hospital bed, still barefoot in only her cut-off shorts and bra. Her eyes cut to me. If a nurse wasn’t tending to her, you’d never know what she’d been through tonight.
Because there’s nothing but happy shining from her deep blue eyes. It’s the same look she had ten years ago in that old barn when she realized I was nothing but fucking thrilled that we’d made a baby.
I lost that look in her eyes too damn soon—I’ll do everything in my power to protect it this time, in every way possible. She could look at me like that every day for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t be enough.
I go to her. “You okay?”
“She’s great, Daddy,” the nurse answers for her. “She told you, the doc told you, the sonographer told you, and I’ve told you. She and your baby are healthy.”
Ellie presses her lips together, not succeeding to hide her smile. The nurse finishes and holds up a hospital gown that’s about ten million sizes too big for my little ballerina. Ellie turns slowly and the nurse slips it on. They had to cut her tank off her since it hurt her too much to lift her arms.
The nurse continues to verbally poke at me. “We’ll just keep tellin’ him and grin while doin’ it since he’s a looker.”
Ellie grins. “He’s a looker, all right.”
The nurse hands her the black and white photos of our blob that is nothing short of a miracle. “Here’re the pictures of your little angel. Feel free to keep the new fancy dress as a souvenir. Take your vitamins and see your OB as soon as possible.” The woman puts her hands on her hips and smiles at me. “Congratulations and take care of them.”
I move to the one who seized my heart when she was still a teenager. Putting my hand to her flat belly, I lean in to kiss her. “I plan to.”
Epilogue
Don’t be a quitter and never say never.
Zero-One-Zero-Eight
Ellie
Two months later
“Tomorrow.” The word comes out on a whisper, his lips working their way across my belly that’s starting to round with our baby. “Tomorrow, we’re going to right wrongs.”
“Yes,” I breathe and dip my hand into his thick, dark hair.
“You and Griffin,” he goes on, pressing his lips to the underside of my swelling breast, “will be mine.”
I shake my head and grip his hair until he looks up at me. “I’ve always been yours. And now we have even more life to love.”
Zero-one-zero-eight, new numbers that now mean everything to us.
His icy blues bore into mine as he splays a hand over our baby that’s due right after the first of the year. Whenever he does this, it reminds me of those few short weeks of happy we had all those years ago before everything was torn apart. “You have. But that doesn’t mean I’m not anxious to make up for lost time and that starts tomorrow.”
Tomorrow we say I do. And not in the way my mother wished for. Trig and I might’ve started out on the ranch I grew up on, but we wanted to do things our own way. It’s going to be small—Trig and I don’t need a lot of people nor do we want them. We’re picking up where we left off a decade ago.
Late tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be married by the lake in Faye’s backyard—our backyard. To finally tie ourselves to each other in a place that Faye loved, amidst her gardens that are now mine, a yard that’s now Griffin’s, and with the home Trig gave her in the backdrop.
Griffin turned one right after everything went down with Ray. We celebrated at the ranch and it was the first time Trig had been back in ten years. My parents welcomed him with open arms. I know this is because the guilt they carry is heavy and, also, because they had no choice. If they want Griffin and me in their lives, they know Trig will be a part of that … forever.