Epilogue

Colette

Thirty-One Weeks Later

As of tomorrow, I am thirty-nine weeks pregnant. Not only that, but it is the anniversary of being violently raped in an alleyway. I don’t like to think of it is that. I like to think of it as my one-year anniversary with Hudson. The anniversary of us getting married and me starting my relationship with Dallas is next week.

I find it ironic that I am in labor on a Saturday. it seems almost symbolic that I’m going to have our baby girl on a Saturday. Hudson joked about it for my entire pregnancy, but I was always secretly hoping that I would have her at least on a weekend.

I had a conversation with my adoptive parents about what to name my little girl. The guys are leaving it up to me, and I want to name her after my mothers. I still refer to Victoria as Victoria, but I introduced also introduced her as my mother. She is my mother. She didn’t do anything to get that title taken away from her. The first time I called her my mom, she cried.

I told Hudson and Dallas that I wanted to have our baby at home. I thought they would call me crazy, but they have fully supported me and not wanting to be in a hospital. I want all of my family and friends here with me. I want her to come into this world being surrounded by love and comfort. We have a large inflatable pool with lots of towels set up in the living room. Everyone is so excited. When we called and told everyone that I was in labor, they rushed over to be with me.

Hudson and Dallas have been sitting with me in the pool, offering me comfort through the contractions. We have a midwife here, but she is only here just in case something goes wrong. The plan is for me to stay leaning back against Hudson so Dallas can help deliver her. He is more trained and less likely to pass out. Hudson is able to comfort me in a way that no one else can.

“Getting close, baby,” Hudson says, kissing my shoulder.

“It hurts,” I whimper.

“What does it feel like?” Victoria asks as she and my mom kneel beside the pool. They are each holding my hands while Hudson gently rubs my belly.

“Pressure. Like I have to push,” I groan as another contraction hits me.

“Pull her legs up,” Hudson says softly. Dallas does, and I involuntarily push. “There ya go. Good girl. Keep going.”

“You’re doing so good, Cole,” Hudson praises. When the contraction passes, I relax.

“One more, baby,” Dallas says. “One more and you get to meet her.”

“Fuck, it hurts,” I whimper again.

“I know, honey. You’re so close. You can do it,” Victoria encourages.

I whine when another contraction starts, but I start pushing again. This time is different. It’s like my body knows she’s almost here. I groan deeply as I bear down and push as hard as I can.

“Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. That’s it. Just a little longer,” Dallas encourages. “There she is.”

All at once, pressure sweeps over me. When Dallas pulls her up from the water and lays her on my chest, I start crying with her as she breathes her first breath of air.

“I’m so proud of you, Cole. You did it,” Hudson says tearfully as he holds us.

“You are amazing, Colette. You did incredible,” Dallas says sweetly, kissing me, and then our daughter.

“Oh, she’s beautiful,” Victoria sniffs.

“Isn’t she just the cutest?” Mom says, joining her in crying.

“James?” Dallas says.

“Hmm?” Dad asks.

“Want to cut the cord?” Dallas asks.

“Yes,” Dad says happily. I stay relaxed while the placenta is delivered and handed off to the midwife. We have decided that we want to donate it, so they go through all of that first.

“Wanna know her name?” I ask.

“Hmm?” Victoria asks, as I look down at my daughter. She is calm and relaxed against my chest as we lay against Hudson.

“Nicole Jillian,” I say. Both of my moms gasp and tear up again. “I wanted her to be named after the three strongest women that we know. My biological mother, my adopted mother… and me.”