I lean closer, inspecting the L-shaped blue and white frosted cupcakes, and agree with my best friend on this. “Sorry, kiddo, it does look better this way.”
“Fine,” she takes the tray with the extra cupcakes. “I’ll eat the rest then.”
With that, she heads towards the small kitchen and leaves me with Lex, who’s as nervous as I am. We all are, even Sledge, who keeps pacing around the apartment and peeking out the window every time he thinks he hears a car pull in. “How are you holding up?”
I let out a shaky breath, steadying my hands that shake at my sides. “I’m so fucking nervous and so full of…” My brows pull together as I try to come up with the word, something that can adequately describe what I’m feeling, it all narrows down to one word. My gaze lifts to meet her ocean orbs, and with a smile, I whisper, “Hope. So full of hope.”
Alexa grins, quickly blinking away the tears just as fast as they gather in her eyes. “They’re here,” Sledge announces, before brushing past us and heading to the door. It takes Nelson and Isaac a good five minutes, and we all gather by the door quietly, hearing the jingle of his keys. In the blink of an eye, the front door eases open, and there they are.
Isaac steps inside, his shirt clinging to his muscles as he carries a carseat. Inside, the small bundle of light is sleeping soundly, dressed in a grey two-piece outfit with small blue dinosaurs. My first gift to him. He’s still so tiny that the clothing is slightly big on him. My heart clenches and my vision blurs. I look up to meet Isaac’s gaze, watching a crooked grin appear on his beautiful face.
“Hey,” he says softly, filling my stomach with thousands of butterflies. “Hey,” I whisper back, slowly inching forward. “He’s beautiful,” I mutter, sincerely. Lucas has his mother’s eyes, that much I know. Everything else, in his small features, is all Isaac, and in that moment, it solidifies that, like his father, I will love him.
Our light. Our Lucas.
“Nice to meet you, Lucas.”
The name floats in the air, like something sacred. Just like that, his little eyes flutter open, unfocused before blinking up at the ceiling, unfazed by all the emotions and everyone that now surrounds us. “He has your nose.”
Isaac waggles his brows. “I think his is cuter.”
“I think he’s just cuter. That’s definitely his titi’s nose. Sorry to break it to you, bro,” Nixie chimes in, crouching before the carseat and cooing at the baby. Isaac hands the carseat to Sledge, who nervously walks back towards the living room, so tense you would think he’s holding a bomb. My mom and Alexa buzz around him like honey bees, quickly working to get the little guy out of the carseat and into their waiting arms. Nixie trails behind them, her arm around Nelson as they discuss the trip and how happy they are.
Before I can join, Iz’s arms band around my waist as he drags me to him, before placing a kiss on my temple.
“Thank you,” he whispers against my skin and lets me go. I look at the love of my life as he pulls off his jacket and gently hangs it on the hook. He looks so exhausted, and so proud that it makes my heart beam with love. It feels so full that I think it might burst, but it doesn’t; if anything, it grows. If I thought I loved him before, what I feel now wouldn’t even compare to the word. Seeing him show up every day, even as afraid as he is, only makes that feeling grow.
The next hour goes by in a blur of quiet conversation, laughter, and shockingly good food. Along with diapers, butt wiping, and Isaac bouncing Lucas gently while trying to warm a bottle with one hand. We all tried to help, but he insisted he was okay. All I can do is watch with admiration. Every moment, every glance towards the baby… and be irrevocably enamoured by the softness of Isaac Vargas. One that doesn't make him weak, never that… it just makes him real. Present..
By the time everyone leaves, it’s nighttime, and the room is dim except for the glow of the TV. I let out a sigh as I melt into the couch, bringing my knees into me and curling up in my spot. Iz mutters something before I hear him walking from the kitchen into the living room. “Wanna be my queen?” he teases, handing me the other half of his popsicle. I bat my lashes, trying to be seductive, reciting the very words we once used as kids. “Only if we can have an endless supply of chocolate and watch weekly reruns of Power Rangers.”
He shrugs, licking up the juice melting from the blue ice pop in his hand. “I guess it's morphing time.” He bust into a move that makes me laugh mid-lick and watch as he lets out a deep groan, before finally collapsing into the spot beside me on the couch. In his hand is a baby monitor that he uses to check on Lucas, who’s nestled in his crib, already fast asleep.
“Want to watch something?” he asks in a sleepy voice. I open my arms, motioning him to lie on me, and he does so without hesitation. My fingers thread along his soft curls, and he sighs from the comfort. “Let’s watch Twilight.”
He snorts playfully. “Seriously?”
“Come on, it’s our tradition,” I tease, feeling the smirk on my lips. He shakes his head before groaning into my thigh. “Feels more like a punishment, pleasespare me.” But the pout and all his argument fades away. Grabbing the remote, he turns on Twilight. We watch the movie, cuddled up on the couch, not talking or kissing, just breathing the same air, in the safety of our home. Of our love. Of us.
And it’s enough…
“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
Emily Brontë
Epilogue
Veronica
Five years later….
The sound of giggles and high-pitched squeals fills the backyard, weaving through the trees and tugging a grin across my face.
“LUCAS VARGAS!” I call for my very feral and very stubborn son. One hand cradles my heavily pregnant belly, and the other shades my eyes from the sun. “If you run into that sprinkler with your shoes on, I swear you’re sleeping in those soggy wet socks tonight.”
The threat means nothing. He does it anyway, and I let him because he's five and it’s just water, not the god damn end of the world. Though I do try to bring order into our very chaotic lives. Never happens, though. Little limbs fly into the air, his wet curls bouncing with each jump. His laugh always fills me with a joy that I never knew existed. Lucas spilled light into my cracked soul, filling it with a love only a mother would know.
Some wounds never heal… they aren’t meant to. Instead, they bloom.
