Page 119 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

Regan is asleep before her head hits the pillow. I’m not surprised. I’ve heard labor and childbirth is more taxing than running a marathon.

I watch her sleep for a minute. Her face is clean of all makeup. Her hair isn’t washed. But somehow, she’s even more beautiful than she was yesterday. Or last month. Or when she was eighteen and I was the horny adolescent lusting after her.

My feelings are more intense than before. But she’s the mother of my child. I’m sure that has everything to do with it.

You loved her before.

I scrub a hand across my two-day stubble as I glance around the room at all the flowers and teddy bears that got delivered when we were in the NICU. Which reminds me, my phone is blowing up with calls and texts.

I promised Regan I’d sit with Mitchell. But first, I have to let everyone know what’s going on.

I make my way to the waiting room, surprised to see it filled to capacity with friends and family. A dozen people spring off couches and chairs when I appear in the doorway. All I have to do is smile and the whole room seems to sigh in collective relief.

“Lucas!” Allie screams, bounding forward to punch me in the arm. “For Christ’s sake, couldn’t you at least have texted?”

“Is he okay?” Mom asks.

The room falls silent as I tell them everything. Then my phone gets passed around so everyone can see pictures.

Allie cries uncontrollably when she sees him. Big, snotty sobs.

Mom sidles up next to her, almost having to hold her upright. I had no idea my little sister would be so affected by me becoming a dad.

“He’s small, but perfect,” I say. “I bet he’ll be out of here even before they anticipate. My kid is strong.”

Dad pats my shoulder. “Of course he is. Congratulations, son.”

I pull Mom and Dad aside. “I’m going to sit with him now. Regan doesn’t want him to be alone. Grandparents are the only other people allowed, so do you think—”

“Whenever you need us,” Mom says. “We can take shifts.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

I look back at everyone in the room. Regan’s friends. Mine. Ryder and my entire family. And I know with this many people pulling for him, Mitchell is going to be just fine.

Before leaving, I pull Ryder aside. “What did Sheriff Niles say about that asshole?”

“No trace of him. Gone. Vanished like a puff of smoke. He made his deputies aware, and they’ll be on the lookout, but he honestly believes she’s seen the last of him.”

I breathe a deep sigh of relief knowing a weight has been lifted and Regan will have one less thing to worry about.

I clasp his shoulder. “Thanks, brother.”

He looks at me oddly. When it dawns on me that I called him brother, I backtrack quickly and say, “Or should I sayuncle?”

He smiles, clearly liking the title.

I wait outside the NICU for someone to let me in, then wash up and sanitize my phone in case I want to take more pictures. Because of course I will. Then a nurse scans my ID band and I enter.

“He’s been doing very well,” Christa says from across the room. “I’ll be right there.” She finishes doing whatever she’s doing and then comes over. “You ready to hold him, Dad?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“It was really nice of you to let Regan have all that time with him. I know it must have been hard.”

I shake my head, thinking of how happy she looked with Mitchell in her arms. “It wasn’t.”

Christa cocks her head and studies me. She knows about me. The whole town does. Even people I don’t know, recognize, or remember—they all know about the infamous runaway groom. Finally, she looks away and pulls over a rocking chair. “Sit here and take off your shirt.”

---