Page 97 of Your Second Chance
“No. Not yet.”
The baby was a perfect combination of me and Austin—his soft curls already forming on her tiny head, my nose unmistakably etched into her features. Yet as I stared at her, I found myself wishing for more than shared DNA. I hoped she’dinherit Ollie’s loyalty, his unwavering support, his ability to love so selflessly.
“We’re going home tonight,” I added, rubbing my temples. “I need to decide. It has to go on her birth certificate.”
Luna gave me a knowing smile. She’d stayed at the house the night before but had come straight to the hospital at first light.
“I want to show you something,” she said suddenly, her voice tinged with excitement. She carefully placed the baby in the cot and turned to me.
She glanced over at Ollie, sprawled on the cot, snoring lightly. “Just making sure he’s asleep,” Luna said, then reached for his phone.
“What are you doing?”
She pulled up his pictures and turned the screen toward me. It was a photo she’d taken last night—Ollie holding me, his face streaked with tears, while I stared up at him, my own eyes red rimmed and raw.
“That’s a beautiful family, Nova,” she said quietly.
Tears pricked my eyes. “It is,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“He let me cut the cord,” Luna continued, her gaze flicking back to him. “He could’ve done it himself, but he let me. I hope you see this, Nova. Really see it.”
I swallowed hard. “I do.”
Luna clapped her hands together, her tone shifting. “Right, sad shit’s over. You’re smelly. Let’s take a shower while the baby’s sleeping.”
I laughed despite myself, wiping at my eyes. “Only you, Luna.”
“Damn right,” she shot back, already heading for the bathroom.
She helped me into the shower, her usual humor subdued, but still present as she guided me through the bloodbath thatwas postpartum reality. She simply handed me a clean towel when it was over and helped me back into the room. The rest of the day passed in a haze of staring at the baby, napping, and whispering small, awe-filled comments about her tiny fingers and soft breaths.
When it was finally time to leave, the nurse brought over the birth certificate forms. My stomach twisted as I stared at the blank space for her name. “I don’t know what to name her.”
Ollie was across the room, wrapping her in the scarlet blanket we’d picked up on our first official date. He held her like she was the most delicate thing in the world, his massive arms cradling her tiny body, his every move careful and deliberate. The sight brought more tears to my eyes, my emotions vacillating in a way I couldn’t contain.
“Hey, O-Ollie?”
He walked over, sitting in the chair next to me, the baby still nestled securely in his arms. “Yeah, love?” he said, glancing between me and the baby, his face filled with quiet devotion.
“I love you.”
His eyes widened for a moment before softening, a slow, warm smile spreading across his face. He reached out, his free hand finding mine and squeezing gently. “I love you, too.”
I glanced down at the scarlet blanket wrapped snugly around my baby, then at Ollie, who smiled as he cradled her. My phone buzzed on the table—Aunt Mae. I picked it up, hitting FaceTime.
“Let me see her,” Mae practically squealed the moment her face appeared on the screen.
I angled the camera toward Ollie, who shifted the baby slightly so Mae could get a better look. “There she is.”
“Oh, she’s perfect,” Mae cooed. “Look at those little curls. What’s her name?”
I hesitated for only a moment before the name rolled off my tongue. “Scarlette,” I said, glancing at the blanket again for reassurance.
“Spelled the British way or American?” Ollie asked.
The corner of my lips tugged into a smirk. “The British way.”
“What’s that spelling?” Mae’s face scrunched in confusion.
