Page 145 of Lotus

I turn then, looking down below us, my gaze landing on the crowd that has gathered. Our friends and family erupt into cheers, sparklers bursting to life, Gabe whistling up at us with an arm around Tabitha who is moving Hope’s little hand in an enthusiastic wave, Clem clapping through her tears, and even Lorna Gibson nodding with a knowing grin. Familiar neighbors, some who participated in Oliver’s original search and rescue, whoop and holler in celebration, and my tears fall as hard as my heart did on Oliver’s front stoop twenty-five years ago.

Oliver pulls me to my feet and circles his strong arms around my middle, crushing me to his chest. We slow dance to the music of fireworks, the cheers from down below, and the beautiful beats of our hearts.

As we hold each other beneath the starry sky, I stretch out my hand, watching as the lotus diamond sparkles and gleams with every burst from above. I think about its meaning and how it represents our love story in the most exquisite way.

TheLotuswill bloom into the most magnificent flower, even when its roots are in the murkiest of waters.

I wrap my arms around Oliver Lynch, my forever best friend, burying my face against the comforting warmth of his chest.

And it’s there upon our secret hill that we dance, we cry, and we fall in love all over again.

It’s there we bloom.

E P I L O G U E

Two Years Later

“IS THAT A HEAD?Is it supposed to be a head?”

Yes. Of course it is. I know this because all I’ve done is research childbirth for the past thirty-nine weeks and five days.

It’s a head.

My daughter’s head, adorned with tuffs of dark blonde curls.

There’s also a fair amount of blood and unidentifiable fluid that has me teetering on both feet, dizzy little stars flickering behind my eyes.

Oh, dear.

“Are you about to pass out? Oliver! Don’t you dar—” Sydney’s battle cry interrupts her demands as she continues to push the tiny human from her womb. She cinches my hand, nails digging in like talons.

The head is crowning.

Along with more blood and fluid.

So much fluid.

I sputter, still feeling exceptionally woozy. “How will the shoulders breach? How on earth will they fit?” This is concerning to me. My chest feels tight, my legs like fluctuant jellyfish. All of my research turns to dust as I squeeze my wife’s hand harder than she squeezes mine.

Her huffing and puffing has me equally concerned, so I blink away the stars and attempt to focus on her. I lean down, my fingers brushing the sweat-soaked hair from her forehead while the medical staff coax her through the birth. “Are you all right?”

Sydney glares in my direction. “It feels like I’m pushing a goddamn freight train out of a pinhole.”Another wail.“My insides are on the outside.”Another push.“And my vagina is literally ripping in half like Moses is parting the Red Sea.”

I make the grave error of glancing back down at thered seain that moment, instantly regretting the decision.

The stars win, and I go down.

“I still can’t believe you fainted.”

Three days later we are home, sitting side-by-side on the living room sofa while we watchThe Parent Traptogether. Our daughter is sound asleep against my chest, her little lips in the shape of an ‘O’ as her cheek molds into me. A dribble of drool stains the front of my shirt and squeaky sighs bathe me in fulfillment.

After a climactic labor and delivery, I was properly resuscitated, unconscious for only thirty seconds. Nevertheless, the memory causes my skin to heat with embarrassment. “I will never stop apologizing for my grossly inconvenient timing,” I mutter, my wife’s head propped up on my shoulder, our hands interlaced. I turn to see her smiling at me in amusement. “No amount of books could prepare me for the… well, the…” I gulp. “There was a great deal of fluid.”

Sydney snickers, nuzzling into me, her fingers dancing along my arm and trailing to our little bundle. She snakes a soft curl around her index finger.

Despite my momentary disruption, the true highlight of that day was my superhero wife delivering the most extraordinary gift. The memory takes my breath away as I gaze down at the woman I chose. The woman Ichoose, every single day. “God, Syd, you were incredible.”

She quirks another smile, lifting her chin. “Way better than you.”

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