The room fills gradually with visitors, first my parents, their faces streaked with tears and smiles so wide I can barely comprehend it. My mother presses her hand to my shoulder, sniffing, and laughing all at once.
“Oh, Rhett. Look at you. You’re a father.”
I shake my head, laughter and tears colliding. “I know. It’s … unreal.”
My father chuckles, leaning down to kiss the baby’s head. “She is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Then Max and Maria arrive, rushing into the room with grins plastered on their faces. Max elbows me lightly.
“Well, look at you. You’ve officially made a tiny human. I didn’t think you had it in you, Remington.”
I laugh, brushing his hand off playfully. “The real credit belongs to Pippa. She was brilliant. The whole thing was magical.”
Maria sits on the bed beside Pippa. She reaches out to touch the baby’s tiny fingers. “She’s adorable,” she breathes. “Pippa, you did amazing. And Rhett … just … wow. Look at her.”
When visiting hours are over, and it’s just us again, I gaze down at the baby, my chest full of love and hopes and dreams for her future. Every thought, every worry, every late-night tension about work, about life, about the future, all crystallize into this one perfect moment - holding my child, seeing Pippa’s eyes lit up with love and wonder. I press my forehead to Pippa’s shoulder.
“You did it. We have a family now.”
“We did it,” she says softly.
Her hand finds mine, her fingers curling around mine, and I know without a doubt this is what life is meant to feel like.
Epilogue
Pippa
Two Years Later
The apartment is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun streaming through the wide windows that look out over Manhattan. I’ve been pacing a little, my hands wringing the hem of my sweater, glancing at the door every few seconds as I wait for Rhett to get home from the office. Today feels like one of those rare, heart-stopping moments where everything could change.
On the rug, our toddler is bouncing with energy, her tiny feet pattering against the polished floor. She’s dressed in a pastel pink bunny suit, the ears flopping adorably every time she spins in a circle. The little tail on the back wiggles as she claps her hands. I crouch down and smooth her hair.
“You look ridiculous,” I tell her, laughing softly, though my voice carries the warmth of my excitement. “Ridiculously cute.”
She giggles and hops toward the sofa. “Bunny rabbit,” she shouts, her eyes bright and full of joy.
I hear the elevator hum from the lobby, and my heart leaps. Rhett will be home any second. “Daddy is coming, Sophie,” I say.
“Yay, Daddy home,” she says.
I straighten my hair, tug at my sweater again, and take a deep breath to try to steady my nerves. Today, I’m not just waiting to see Rhett because I miss him. I’m about to tell him something that will change everything.
The door clicks open, and there he is, his tall frame filling the doorway. His eyes immediately scan the room until they land on Sophie in the bunny suit. His eyebrows shoot up, but he can’t help but smile at how damned cute she looks.
“Why … what’s the outfit?” he asks, half laughing and half exasperated.
“What do rabbits do best?” I ask cheekily.
He frowns. “What?”
“The correct answer is, breeding.” I grin and step toward him. “So, I thought the bunny suit was an appropriate outfit for someone who is about to get a bunny brother or sister.”
His eyes soften instantly, and he kneels down, scooping his daughter into his arms. She squeals and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. I step closer, holding my breath, my heart racing. We’ve never really gotten around to discussing if we wanted any more children.
“Really?” he asks, and his voice is shocked.
I nod and smile, my hand resting on my stomach. “Yup. We’re going to have another one.”
