Continue reading for a glimpse of the Wilde family five years in the future…
Bonus Epilogue
Freya
Five years later
My back tenses and my hips ache, so I stop mid-stridetoward the pantry. Planting my hand on the counter, I breathe through the pain and wait for it to subside. It doesn’t last long, maybe fifteen seconds, but I know from experience that this is only the tip of the iceberg.
“Okay, that’s it,” Julian mutters in a low angry whisper. “That one came way faster.”
He’s right, of course. That was only five minutes between contractions, and it was more intense than the last one.
“Fine,” I whisper in return. “I’ll call the car, and you tell him.”
“Me?” He’s wearing a wide-eyed expression of terror that makes me giggle.
“What’s your plan, Julian? We go to the hospital alone and call him when the baby’s here?”
He tilts his head. “Not a bad idea.”
“Julian!”
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell him. But be ready for pandemonium.”
I giggle again and pull my phone from my back pocket, finding Lucien’s number saved in my favorites. It only rings once before he answers.
“Madame?” he asks with excitement.
“It’s time, Lucien.”
“I am coming!” he replies excitedly. “Two minutes, Madame Wilde. I will be there!”
His elation makes me smile just as another contraction stops me in my tracks. With my hand on the wall, I breathe through the pain. Somewhere across the house, I hear a whooping shout and the sound of Julian’s calm tone trying to force our husband to relax.
Three years ago, when I went into labor with Kiran, Archer nearly hyperventilated. I’ve never seen him so excited. It was an incredibly long labor, and he stayed mostly alert and enthused the entire time.
Julian is far more level-headed during the whole thing.
And ironically, I need both. I siphon energy to get through labor with Archer by my side, but I need Julian’s coolness to stop me from freaking out as well. It’s a balance.
Once the contraction subsides, I continue my walk down the hall in search of my hospital bag. As I pass by Kiran’s room, I pause in the doorway and stare at his name in giant letters above his bed—his new big boy bed. A major deal for a three-year-old who’s about to become a big brother.
He’s staying at Julian’s parents for the weekend, since baby Evren decided to be six days late. My heart aches with missing Kiran, and I make a mental note to FaceTime him when we get to the hospital.
“Call your mother,” I say to Julian as he comes up behind me, placing his hand on my back.
“Of course. Let me get the bag.”
My cool and collected husband has everything under control, so I don’t have to worry.
“You too,” I bark at Archer as he turns the corner, wearing a tight expression as if his facehurtswith the exertion he’s using to keep from grinning.
“Yes, Chef,” he replies. He scurries in front of me, kicking one of Kiran’s toys out of my path as he grabs my jacket from the hook by the door. As he slides it onto my shoulder, I smile up at him.
His hair is long now, reaching his shoulders. Most of the time, he has it pulled back in a messy bun, especially when he’s working at the gym. But today he has it down, and I want to run my fingers through it. My beautiful, wild man.
“You’re dying of excitement, aren’t you?”
