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Chapter 213
My mother hesitates only a moment before stepping closer.
April shifts Camille carefully into her arms, and I watch as my mother stares down at the tiny face swaddled in pink.
“She’s beautiful,” she whispers, like she’s afraid to speak too loudly. “She has your eyes, Nathan,”
“She has April’s mouth and nose,” I say, and April’s smile deepens.
Marisol looks up, tears streaking her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she tells April, her voice breaking. “For loving him. For giving him this life. And for…letting me be here now.”
April squeezes her hand. “Thank you for being here. For giving Nathan back his mother.”
It’s quiet for a moment–just the sound of our daughter breathing, the hum of the hospital hallway beyond.
Then June edges closer, peeking over Marisol’s shoulder with cautious curiosity.
“That’s your niece,” I tell her. “You ready to babysit when you come visit for the holidays?” She flew in for the long Thanksgiving weekend because she knew April’s due date was soon.
June smirks. “I’ll start my rates at twenty euros an hour.”
Laughter ripples through the room, easing the tension like steam off a kettle.
The rest of the evening blurs into snapshots–Peter wrangling Asher while Eliza coos over Camille, Lara and Rhys snapping photos on their phones, June sneaking extra chocolates from the pastry box.
We never do eat Thanksgiving dinner. But no one seems to mind.
It’s almost midnight when the last visitor leaves, their goodbyes echoing down the quiet hall. The nurses dim the lights, and the city hum fades to a distant murmur outside the window.
I climb into the hospital bed beside April, careful not to jostle her or the tiny bundle sleeping between us. Camille makes a soft little sound, her lips parting in sleep.
April tilts her head toward me, her hair a bright halo against the pillow. “Can you believe this?” she whispers.
“No, I can’t, I get it when you say our life feels like a dream.”
She chuckles softly. “I’m glad she has your eyes.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “All your life, you looked into eyes like yours and saw monsters. Now, you’ll look into her eyes and see all the love and adoration in the world reflected back to you.”
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A strangled sound tears out of me, and I press my lips to her forehead, a tear trailing down my cheek.
“Thank you,” I whisper against her skin. “For giving me you. For giving me her.”
I pull back and press our foreheads together. April’s eyes shine in the low light.
“I don’t think I’ve ever loved you as much as I do right now. And yet, I know that tomorrow, I’ll love you more.”
A soft sigh flows out of her and wraps around me like a hug. “That’s my line.”
I chuckle, leaning down to capture her lips with mine.
Camille fusses, and we break apart, laughing softly. “Guess we have a third wheel for the next eighteen years.”
“Longer than that,” I tell her. “I intend to give Camille little brothers and sisters.”
She nods solemnly. “Sounds like a plan. You’re carrying the next one.”
I chuckle softly, and my hand finds hers, our fingers threading together over the baby’s tiny form.
“We’re going to give her the best damn life,” I promise fiercely.
April kisses my knuckle. “She already has something neither of us had. Amazing parents who will love her unconditionally and fight for
her no matter what.”
Amen to that.
For a while, we just lie there, breathing in sync, watching our daughter’s chest rise and fall. The world outside could collapse, and I wouldn’t care–as long as this stays untouched.
April’s eyes start to drift closed, her lips curving faintly. “Happy Thanksgiving, Nathan.”
I kiss her temple, my heart so full it almost hurts. “Best Thanksgiving of my life.”
And in the quiet, with Paris sleeping beyond the window, I hold my family close and let the gratitude sink into my bones.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
