“Yeah, baby, I’m here.” I catch her free hand, interlacing our fingers like she’s my lifeline.
I place a quick kiss on her knuckles, my apologetic eyes trying to convey all the words I need to say to her when we’re not being rushed. Because “I’m sorry” doesn’t even come close.
Against the frantic footsteps and murmured medical speak around us, Nisha gives me a faint, exhausted smile. “I’m glad.”
I walk beside her gurney, every step a silent promise that whatever waits for us ahead, we’ll face it together.
My lips find Nisha’s forehead first before drifting down to our daughter’s impossibly delicate temple. My chest warms with emotions so intense, it threatens to catch fire. They’re a blend of overwhelming love, surging pride, and protective tenderness I never knew existed inside me.
“She’s perfect,” I murmur, the words barely audible.
I can’t take my eyes off the beautiful miracle who’s graced our lives, with her miniature features, her head of soft, dark hair, and rose-petal lips. I can’t believe she’s here.
After doing their initial assessments, the nurses gently wiped her clean and placed her on Nisha’s bare chest for skin-to-skin contact. To our surprise, our baby instinctively found her way to her mother’s breast, her tiny fist uncurling as she latched on with a determination that had both Nisha and me chuckling and glassy-eyed.
Nisha glides a gentle finger down the baby’s back, infinite tenderness in her eyes. “What should we name this little starlight?”
We’d talked about her name here and there over the months, but had decided to put off the decision until we met her.
I brush a strand of damp hair from Nisha’s face, in awe of her strength and her body. “What feels right to you?” You did all the hard work to bring this life into the world.”
Nisha’s expression is thoughtful despite her exhaustion. “I was thinking of Gia Estelle. Gia means heart in Hindi and God’s gift in Italian, and Estelle means star.”
“Gia Estelle,” I repeat, testing out her name on my tongue. Something about it sounds exactly right, like she was always meant to be named that.
“Gia EstellePierce,” Nisha says, leaning forward in a silent request for me to bring my lips to hers.
I don’t hesitate, pressing my lips to hers before wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck and deepening the kiss. The moment is dense with all we’ve been through to get here, not just today but for years. However, it’s relief, wonderment, and love—so much fucking love—that settles around us.
For a moment, with our lips exploring each other’s, our hearts locked, and our baby in her arms, my entire world narrows until nothing else exists.
Then, a tiny coo breaks the silence, and we pull apart with a soft laugh. Fuck, my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
“Looks like she doesn’t want any competition,” Nisha says, looking down at Gia, who has fallen asleep inside the crook of her tattooed arm, her lips wet and her expression serene.
“She knows who really matters.”
Nisha threads her fingers with mine. “She’s lucky to have you, and so am I. But she’s going to need you to explain what happened today.”
I run a hand through my hair. “I accidentally left my phone in my truck when I went to R&R’s to get your favorite French toast. I thought I’d surprise you since my meeting ended early. But when I got there, my, uh”—I take a breath, still coming to terms with everything that’s happened today—“my mom was there.”
Nisha gasps, quickly glancing down at Gia to make sure she hasn’t woken up. “What?”
“Yeah. Long story short, because I really don’t want to take away from this moment, sweetheart, but apparently she’s been looking for me for a few years. She started working for R&R because she saw me there a couple of times. And today, when I saw her . . .” I trail off, not able to put my whirlwind of emotions into words.
“It must have been so surreal for you,” Nisha finishes for me. “After all these years, seeing her again. I can only imagine how overwhelming that must have been.”
My brows draw together, my throat tightening in shame. “I . . . I lost track of time. We were catching up and . . . I just?—”
“Patton, I get it.” Her hand squeezes mine. “There’s no way you could have predicted any of this. Not me going into labor a week early and certainly not your mom showing up out of nowhere.”
I swallow, my eyes locking with hers. How is this woman so calm and understanding when all I feel is shame and guilt? “I’m so sorry, Nisha. I can’t even—God, I can’t believe I wasn’t hereagainwhen you needed me. I promised you I’d never let you go through something like this alone again, and I failed. I fucking failed.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You didn’t, Patton. Look around. You’re here, you’re with me and our daughter. Yes, it was close, but you made it. And that’s what matters. And honestly? Even if you hadn’t, we would have understood. It wouldn’t have been intentional.”
My brows furrow. “You’re not mad?”
“It helps that you look sexy in scrubs, and I’m on drugs.”
