I toe off my shoes and carefully climb onto the bed beside her, arranging myself until I can pull her to my chest. I already know she fits perfectly, like we were designed to occupy this exact space.
“This is not comfortable,” I complain, even as I skim my lips across her forehead.
“Tough.” She nestles closer, her hand resting over my heart. “You’re stuck now.”
“Like glue.”
We lie there in comfortable silence while the beeping monitor provides a steady soundtrack. I can feel her heartbeat against my ribs and the slight swell of her stomach where our baby is growing strong despite today’s scare. Outside the window, the Colorado sky is just starting to turn golden, as if the lightness in my heart is painting it.
“Felix?”
“Yeah?”
“What kind of dog do you think we should get?”
I let out a laugh and kiss her again, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. “Whatever kind and as many as you want. I was serious about the giraffe, too.”
I feel her smile. “Definitely a rescue. One that needs all the love wehave to give it.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Another stretch of silence.
“Hey, Hart?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m never letting you go. You know that, right?”
She tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes full of an emotion that looks a lot like forever. “Back at you, Barlowe.”
I tighten my arms around her, careful of the wire, and let myself believe it. Neither of us is perfect. We’re going to fight and make mistakes and probably drive each other crazy on a regular basis. But lying here in this too-small hospital bed with the woman I love, our baby’s heartbeat steady on the monitor beside us, I know one thing for certain.
I wouldn’t trade this imperfectly perfect love for anything in the world.
EPILOGUE
PIPER
Colorful bouquets graceevery table beneath the white tent, and I catch myself pressing a hand to my chest as if I can hold onto this moment. Two weeks ago, Felix surprised both of us with his proposal in a sterile hospital room. Tonight we were married surrounded by our siblings, friends, and Molly’s fields of wildflowers, which feels exactly right for what we’re building together.
The ceremony was simple. My sister cried while Ian subtly swiped at his cheeks, pretending he wasn’t misty-eyed. Ellie threw flower petals with the enthusiasm of a botanical firecracker. And Hopper—the three-legged rescue mutt Ellie calls Hoppy—watched from his spot next to Felix under the arbor like the dignified gentleman he pretends to be when he’s not stealing socks from the laundry basket.
Now the intimate reception is in full swing, string lights twinkling overhead as the summer sun dips toward the mountains. Although Felix and I wanted something casual, my sister and our book club friends insisted that the evening also needed to be special. Someone—probably Sloane—connected a speaker to aplaylist that’s heavy on country love songs and light on anything that requires actual coordination.
“Mrs. Barlowe.” Felix’s voice is warm against my ear as he takes my hand and pulls me toward him. “Dance with me.”
“I’m not sure my feet can handle another round.” I wince and then smile up at him. “Heels were a mistake.”
“Let me help free your poor, beautiful toes,” he says and drops to his knees, lifting each of my feet to slide off one shoe and then the other, tossing them into the grass.
I sigh in relief, then laugh at the whoops and whistles his behavior elicits from Eric and Chase on the far side of the tent. “I think you just like me barefoot and pregnant,” I tease as he stands and slides his arms around me.
“I like you full stop, wife,” he clarifies as my new husband cups my cheek with one hand and presses a delicate kiss to my lips.
Husband.
The word sends a flutter through my chest every time I think it. His dark hair is mussed from Ellie’s hands after she demanded to take part in our first dance as a family perched on Felix’s shoulders.
