Goldie and Fletcher took her to play with their dogs while we were at the hospital and dropped her off shortly after we got home.
Jessica inches into the room with more hesitation than I’ve ever seen in her, sniffing cautiously in our direction.
I squat on the floor, letting her step onto my thighs while she sniffs more.
“Yes, yes, he’s a boy,” I whisper. “You’re gonna have to tough it out a little more. He has a lot of Ziggy in him. You’ll love him.”
She snorts.
There’s no heat to it though.
She knows I’m right.
None of us can resist loving Ziggy, so none of us can resist loving Ziggy’s baby.
It’s a universal law.
“Is it a boy that Jessica likes?” Ziggy asks.
She shifts on the bed and rolls over to watch us.
Fucking rock star.
Labor and delivery make rugby matches look like a walk in the park.
“I think Jessica’s gonna cope,” I tell her.
She smiles, and my heart melts all over again.
Just like it does every time she smiles.
I didn’t want this.
Didn’t want a family. A partner. Kids. Pets.
But I’ve never been happier in my life.
“Is he awake?” Ziggy asks.
“Just woke up.”
He yawns, then stretches his tongue out like he’s still figuring out he has a tongue. His little face scrunches up, and then the wail comes.
Ziggy sits and reaches for him, so I scoot onto the bed next to her and hand him over.
“He’s so fuck—freaking perfect,” I murmur into her hair.
“And he’ll only get better,” she replies as she holds him to her breast and the little guy latches on. “Until he’s a teenager. Then we might hate him for a while. But after that, life will be great. Until he goes to college. And leaves us. And becomes an adult. And?—”
She cuts herself off as she starts to sniffle.
“And it’s going to be a long, long, long time before any of that happens,” I tell her.
“No, it won’t,” she sobs.
She’s not wrong.
But if we’ve both learned anything in the past year or so—some lessons together, some apart—it’s that we still have today.
And this today—this today is beautiful.
Just like she is.
“I love you,” I murmur into her hair.
“You’re my everything,” she whispers back. “Both of you. And the dog. All three of you. My everything.”
And of everything I’ve ever done in my life, being her everything is…well, it’smyeverything.
