Epilogue - Sam

Three Years Later

“Aren’t you hungover?”

My wife picked her way across the living room. Lainey. My wife. My possibly pregnant wife . My chest tightened.

Most days, I woke up feeling like I was in a dream. Lainey stole the covers, and slept like a starfish more often than not, but she was always willing to curl up against me when I prodded her back into a normal position. We drank coffee and tea together almost every morning. Met up with Blake and his wife, or Tess and her husband, or my family over the weekends. Took on home improvement projects together. Bickered every once in a while about stupid shit that we’d kiss and make up about later.

To anyone else, it was just a regular life. But I’d known from almost the minute I saw her that with Lainey, it would be special. I hadn’t been wrong.

“Yes.” I was very hungover, in fact. Last night, Will had gotten the bright idea of starting a toasting war. We’d polished off the complimentary bottles at our table at a shocking rate, raising glass after glass to the award winners. Mostly Lainey.

I couldn’t help it. I was in the mood to celebrate my wife and her incredible achievements. I hadn’t thought twice about her single half-glass of champagne. I wrote it off as nerves, or wanting to be sharp for her speech.

But I should have known better. It was something much, much more than that. Maybe.

I reached over to pull out the box from the bag on the counter. The one I’d gotten up at six a.m. to buy, and yes, I had been up last night Googling the store hours of our nearest pharmacy. Lainey sputtered a laugh, picking up the pregnancy test while I poured her a glass of tea from the pitcher I kept in the fridge.

Lemongrass, today. I’d probably break out the peppermint once this was gone, or maybe one of the blends my mother made for her. Something with ginger, for any morning sickness.

But Lainey didn’t look sick. She looked radiant, like she always did. Hair in a messy bun, make-up free, and wearing one of my shirts. My favorite sight in the world.

“You’re not messing around, huh?” She tapped the box that might hold the answer to the most important question of our lives.

“Nope.”

She dropped it on the counter, looking unsure. “You’re not mad about that, are you? I thought it would be a good surprise. But I know we didn’t really talk about it first—mmph.”

My arms wrapped around her before she could finish her sentence, lips claiming hers. “I love it. I want your babies so badly you have no clue.”

“I have some clue. Watching you play with Ru makes my uterus tingle.”

I tilted her head back, angling her so I could sink in, taking her mouth with mine. She sighed, looping her hands behind my neck, returning my kisses with lazy licks and smiles. Like she had all the time in the world to kiss her husband on a Saturday morning.

She did not. We had things to do.

“Lainey.”

“Hmm?” She nipped across my jaw. I gripped her face, looking her in the eyes.

“Go pee on this stick.”

Moments later, we leaned over the bathroom counter, staring at the little test she’d flipped upside-down. Her phone counted down a two-minute timer.

“Full transparency, I just got really freaked out.” Her fingers drummed on the marble counter.

“Full transparency, I’m fucking terrified. But our kids will be incredible.” I looked over at her, the sheen of tears shimmering in her eyes. “I want to meet them, don’t you?”

A single tear fell, rolling down the cheek that curved into a beautiful smile. “Yeah, I do.” I held her tight while I watched the timer tick down. If the test was negative, we’d try again. If that didn’t work, we’d figure it out. Everything I wanted was already right here in my arms.

The shrill beep bounced off the tile. Lainey shut the alarm off and bit her lip, glancing at me when she flipped the test over.

My heart stopped as I stared at the two perfect pink lines we saw. Clear as day.

“Oh my God. Oh…my God. Ohmigod!”

I swept her into my arms, emotion clogging my throat. “You’re pregnant.”

“We’re pregnant! Oh, my God.”

She soaked happy tears into my shirt. I wiped a few off my cheeks myself. We swayed back and forth in the bathroom. Periodically, I peeked over her shoulder to look again at the test on the counter.

“Sam.” She buried her face in my chest in the way that I loved. She fit under my chin like she was made to be there.

If I’d been gone for her before, I wanted to worship at her feet now. Pregnant. With my baby. I wanted to beat my chest and yell it from the roof.

I pressed my lips to her eyes, nose, cheeks…anything I could reach. My hands moved on their own, charting the familiar path down her body. Pulling the hem of my shirt up over her skin.

“Sam…Samuel, I can’t,” she snickered, batting my hand away.

“Intercourse is perfectly fine with a healthy pregnancy.” I pinched a light bite on her neck. I hadn’t marked her in a while. I was craving the sight of my teeth marks on her skin. Maybe her thighs. God damn , she was pregnant.

“I told Jas I’d watch the kids today while she runs errands. Conner’s booked up all morning.”

Just one more reason I loved my wife. When we’d first gotten together, she’d claimed she was broken, but it was the gift of a lifetime to see her flourish as she accepted my family as her own. She was as ingrained now as Jas was. My mom called Lainey her daughter. Santiago teased her mercilessly. And I got to come home to her every night and call her mine.

“When?”

“Seven-thirty.”

“You have time.” I captured her mouth with mine once more, smiling to hear her groan against me. Not surrender. Not yet. But close.

“I have to shower,” she gasped.

“I can fuck you in the shower.”

“Sam!” She laughed, pretending to be horrified. “Watch your language in front of the baby!”

I probably looked like a besotted fool, grinning down at her with stars in my eyes. I felt like a besotted fool but wouldn’t have it any other way. “The baby.”

She looked as sappy as I felt. I walked her backwards, twisting on the taps.

“Come on, Honey. If we hurry, we can do it twice before you go over there.”

“Sir, you are forty years old. There’s no way.”

I nuzzled her neck as steam filled the room. “I think you underestimate my motivation.”

She sucked in a breath. “Wait, Sam…”

“What, Lainey?” Anything. Anything she wanted.

“Does this mean I can call you Daddy now, too?”

I laughed. Squeezed her closer to me, but not too close. Not too hard. She was carrying precious cargo.

“Baby, you can call me anything you want, as long as it’s not oatmeal.”

The End.