The moments when you look at each other and feel sure that you’re understanding one another perfectly, in a way nobodyelse ever has.That was what Heather had said. And looking at Miles now, that was exactly what Chelsea felt.
No one had ever known her like he did. No one ever would. And to hear him talk about it, he felt exactly the same way about her. In spite of everything, he had come for her. He was here with her.
How did this happen? After all the chaos, after the random way we met and the unorthodox journey we’ve had—how did I end up in love with the man who fathered my child, after all?
She could only decide that she must be the luckiest woman in the world.
CHAPTER 23
MILES
“He’s perfect,” Chelsea murmured, staring down at the newborn boy in her arms. “Can you believe we made something so perfect?”
Miles couldn’t. And Chelsea was absolutely right. From the moment they had learned she was pregnant, he’d had thoughts of what this day might be like, but he had never imagined anything as beautiful and powerful as this instant. He had never dreamed of what it might really be like to see his baby — his son. There was nothing better in all the world.
Chelsea looked up at him. “Do you want to hold him?”
Miles nodded reverently, hardly able to believe that he was allowed to do such a thing. He was not a man who had ever shied away from responsibilities, and yet this one seemed as though it might be too much for him. He accepted the baby carefully as Chelsea held him out, supporting his tiny head the way the nurse had instructed.
His heart swelled with more love than he had ever felt in his life.
My father was right. I’m so grateful I did this. I’m so grateful he pushed me to carry on the family legacy. It’s about so much more than that, and if I hadn’t tried to have an heir to please him, I never would have discovered the gift of fatherhood.
The baby yawned and stretched in his arms, eyelids fluttering. His lips pursed and his head tipped to the side.
“He’s a whole little person,” Miles said wonderingly. He shifted the baby’s weight to one arm and stroked a fingertip down the soft fuzz of his tiny cheek. “I never knew I could feel this way about anything. Anyone.”
Chelsea reclined in the hospital bed, looking positively radiant. Her skin glowed and her eyes shone bright, and as Miles looked at her, he couldn’t remember ever thinking anyone was more beautiful. It brought his mind, all at once, back to the letter he still hadn’t read.
Her name was on it. Her name and his. And he had fully intended to read it without her, to make sure whatever was inside was something he wanted to share. But now, seeing her like this and holding their baby in his arms, he didn’t want to do anything without her.
“Here.” He rose to his feet and gently transferred the baby back into her arms.
She frowned. “Are you going somewhere?”
“No, no,” he assured her. “Nothing like that. It’s just that I have something for you.”
“For me?”
“I think so. Well… it’s for both of us.” He produced the letter, which he had been carrying around in his jacket pocket since the day he’d found it, trying to work up the courage to rip it open.
She took it from him, looked down at the envelope, then back up at him. “Miles… what is this?”
“I found it weeks ago in my father’s house,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to open it. Now I think maybe that’s for the best. I never should have considered reading it without you anyway.”
“You can, you know,” she said quietly. “Even if it does have my name on it. He was your father. If you want to read it first, I understand. I wouldn’t be angry at that.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he assured her. “It means everything to me that you feel that way. But I want to share this with you. Dad wrote it to both of us. It says so right there. We should read it together. That’s what he would have told us to do — in fact, thatiswhat he’s telling us to do.”
Chelsea hesitated. “If that’s what you want.”
“More than anything,” he assured her.
She nodded. “But you should be the one to do the honors,” she passed the envelope back.
Miles hesitated. Even now, he was fearful. Even now, he found it hard to open this envelope, to face whatever was inside. These would be, as he had realized before, his father’s very last words to him. The last message he would ever receive from the man who had raised him. It suddenly seemed more important, more significant, than anything that had ever passed between the two of them before now.
He took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope, pulling out the folded piece of paper inside. He opened it carefully, feeling at once as if his father had stepped into the room and was standing there beside him.
