Epilogue
Where Hope Draws Breath
Bash
"No, Wait. Amelia."
My voice jerks me awake, the words tearing out of my throat before my eyes even open. For one terrifying moment, I'm still there. In that dark corridor where Amelia eviscerated Jaxson and me after her turn at Mandy. Deservedly so. We'd both torn a piece of her heart out then.
My chest aches as I remember her walking away, finished with me, casting Jaxson aside. In that moment, I was certain I'd already lost her and wouldn't be able to win her back.
As I surface from the nightmare, I blink, disoriented, and find Amelia curled up to me. Her warmth presses against my chest, her soft breath steady. Her face etched with exhaustion. My arms cradle her as the dim hospital light glows above us. Memory rushes back all at once. Amelia's painful labor. My daughter's screaming debut into the world. Her cries nearly broke my heart.
My two girls.
We named our daughter, Paxton Kate, but from the second she came into the world, red and wailing and absolutely perfect, she was Pattycake to me. I cradled her against my chest and whispered, "Hey there, what's wrong with Daddy's little Pattycake?" She stopped crying immediately and just stared at me. And that was it. The pet name for her stuck.
For a few quiet minutes, she was just ours. We counted her fingers and toes, nuzzled her soft skin, and told her all about her big brother, Beckett Rhys. About how he was going to look out for her whether she wanted him to or not. Then the nurses came to take her for her vitals and routine checks.
When the room finally stilled and the adrenaline drained away, Amelia lay back, exhausted. I climbed into bed beside her spent body, the same one that had just brought my daughter into the world. I pulled her close, and we both fell asleep.
Now, I exhale shakily and lean my back against the pillow. Thankfully, the nightmare I had just awoken from was just that, and Amelia was safe in my arms.
As I blink the sleep from my eyes, memories cascade through my mind. The first time I met her in that club, how unaffected she was by me. Her fiery passion as she demolished the fixtures in the rage room. Her eyes sparkled as sweat gathered at her temples from the energy she poured into it.
Ice skating with her is a joy, but watching her compete is like watching a bird fly. Muscle memory. Poetry in motion. Whatever you want to call it, she's one with the ice. There's nothing like it.
Then I remember Christmas. The day I let my insecurities get the best of me and basically tossed her out into the snow. It didn't take long for me to realize my mistake, but by that time, she'd cut all ties. It was months before I saw her again, longer before we truly talked.
Since then, it's felt like a dream. Dating her. Proposing. Marrying her. When she became pregnant with Beckett, I watched her petite frame grow round with my child, and I nearly lost it. She was beautiful, ethereal, mine.
Amelia is the kindest and most loving wife I could have asked for.
It never ceases to amaze me that Jaxson was foolish enough to ask for an open marriage when he had perfection all along. It breaks my heart that Amelia had to go through that, but I can't regret that it led me to her. Led me to all this—my family.
A nurse knocks softly and steps inside, pushing a small newborn bassinet.
"Is mama awake?" she whispers. "I think your little sweetheart's ready to eat."
Amelia stirs beside me. "Yes, yes. I am." She sits up slowly, softly grunting, pulling the sheet up to her shoulders as the nurse brings Pattycake to her. Our daughter quickly nuzzles and latches on.
God, my heart's full. Watching this is the most beautiful and innocent act I've ever seen.
There's another soft knock, and Mom peeks her head inside. When she sees Amelia nursing, she lowers her voice and motions Dad toward the waiting room before bringing Beckett in.
"How're our girls?" she coos softly.
Amelia smiles, tired but glowing. "We're good. Just tired. And Paxton's beautiful. She looks like her dad."
"Yes, she is," I say, lifting Beckett onto the bed with us. "But she has her mama's beauty."
"Oh, my," Mom laughs softly. "What a headful of blonde hair."
"See? Like her daddy," Amelia says.
I grin and look down at my son. "Beckett, this is your baby sister, Paxton. I like to call her Pattycake."
He giggles. "Pappycake."
