“Another contraction,” I murmur, checking the monitor. “Big one coming.”
The next hour blurs into a symphony of controlled chaos. Tommy refuses to leave Giovanna’s side in the next room, his deep voice a steady rumble of support. Dr. Rossi is with Giovanna but shouts out to me on occasion, calm and precise. I focus on Siena’s breathing and the numbers climbing on the monitor.
“Almost there,” Dr. Rossi calls, appearing in the doorway long enough to check Siena’s progress. “You’re doing beautifully. Sophie, when I give the word, you’re going to help guide the baby.”
Guide the baby. Me?
My hands shake as I position myself, following Dr. Rossi’s rapid-fire instructions. Matti is murmuring to Siena but her eyes are locked on mine.
“Now, Sophie!” Dr. Rossi’s voice cuts through my thoughts before he rushes back to Giovanna.
“Okay, Siena, ready? Time to meet Emilia. Push for me!”
There’s no time to think. One second I’m nodding and smiling at Siena and the next second I’m holding her tiny, perfect miracle. Emilia’s wail fills the whole room, throaty and loud.
“She’s here,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Siena, meet Emilia.”
The baby is warm and slippery and impossibly small, her face scrunched up in indignation at being forced into this cold, bright world. I lift her carefully, placing her on Siena’s chest as Dr. Rossi swoops in to clamp and let Matti cut the cord.
Matti has actual tears streaming down his face as he stares at his wife and daughter like they’re the only people in the world.
I blink hard against the burning in my eyes, and swallow past the lump in my throat.
It’s beautiful, what they have.
I carefully wash Emilia, but when I try to hand her back to Siena, Siena shakes her head and snuggles into Matti’s arms, her voice tired but light.
“Hold her, please.”
I carefully snuggle the baby to my chest, cleaned and swaddled in pink, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s so light. So fragile. Her tiny fingers curl against my chest, and she smells amazing.
God, I want this so badly I could taste it. A baby with Vin’s dark eyes and gorgeous olive skin. A little girl or boy who would grow up knowing she was loved fiercely, protected absolutely, who would never doubt her worth because her father chose her, chose her mother, choseus.
But he didn’t choose me.
A tear slides hot down my cheek before I can stop it. I turn slightly, hiding my face as I press a kiss to the baby’s downy head. She smells like new life and promise, everything good.
Siena beams at me. “Auntie Sophia holding baby Emilia Sophia Bellamorte Dragovari.”
I squeeze my eyes shut around the tears I can’t stop from pouring down my face, too overcome to speak.
Siena reaches for me and I reach out my hand the best I can around the baby. “My best friend. The strongest woman I know,” she says.
The tears come faster now, but I’m smiling through them. “I’m honored.”
“I always wanted us to be pregnant at the same time!” Siena laughs, exhausted and elated.
The words hit like a cold shower. I freeze, my smile faltering. And that’s when I feel him.
I look up to see Vin standing in the doorway, his face almost white, his eyes locked on me with an intensity that steals the breath.
Not on the baby. On me.
For a moment, the room falls away. It’s just us, standing on opposite sides of an impossible divide, and the look on his face is something I’ve never seen before.
Then I realize why: he heard what Siena said. He thinks I’m pregnant.
