Declan squeezes my hand. “You ready?”
I manage a nod. “As I’ll ever be.”
It’s strange—how everything I’ve ever learned about breathing, timing, body control—all of it vanishes the second it’s me. There’s just this flood of instinct and trust. I focus on Declan’svoice, on the weight of his hand around mine, on the steady rhythm of his breathing that pulls me through each push.
Then, the world tilts.
A cry—high and sharp—cuts through the chaos.
My breath catches. “Is that—?”
Declan’s eyes are wet when he nods. “That’s one.”
I laugh through the tears, dizzy and trembling.
The nurse moves fast, checking vitals, calling out numbers that barely register.
“Here’s your girl,” she says with a smile. “She’s perfect.”
There’s movement near my feet, a blur of blue blankets and soft voices.
Then the doctor says, “Alright, ready for the second?”
I nod again, even though I’m shaking. Declan’s forehead presses to mine. “You’ve got this, Charlie. One more.”
One more.
I grip his hand and push, the sound leaving my chest somewhere between a sob and a scream. And then—another cry. Smaller, softer, but just as strong.
Declan lets out a sound I’ve never heard from him before—half laugh, half disbelief. “They’re here.”
When I finally look up, I see two nurses at the warmer, each holding something impossibly small, impossibly precious.
“They’re perfect,” I whisper, and my voice breaks.
Declan’s hand is trembling against mine. “You’re perfect.”
A nurse turns toward us, smiling. “Your girl is letting everyone know she’s here. Your boy’s a little quieter, but his color and breathing look great.”
She brings the first one to me, swaddled tight, pink-cheeked and squirming. The moment she rests that tiny body against my chest, the whole room goes still. Every monitor fades, every sound softens.
Declan brushes his hand over the baby’s back, voice barely a whisper. “Hey there, little one.”
Then the nurse brings the second—smaller, with a dark fuzz of hair and the same stubborn mouth I know too well.
“And here’s your son,” she murmurs.
Declan laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “Looks like we’ve got another fighter.”
I look up at him, tears blurring everything. “What do you think?”
He grins, eyes shining. “Already captain material.”
The nurse smiles. “Do you have names?”
Declan squeezes my hand—that quiet, familiar smile we shared the night we finally agreed on their names.
I nod, voice thick. “Lila Grace.” I glance at the smaller one. “And Finn Declan.”
