Epilogue

Epilogue

Mason

Two years later…

"I… I'm pregnant," the low voice comes from the other side of the phone.

Transported back into the past, my gut clenches. She hasn't been feeling well for the past couple of days. I should've pushed her to go to the doctor.

It's going to be okay, I lecture myself.

"Say something, Mase."

Hurrying to get to where she is, I start by shutting down my computers and piling my crap inside my backpack. "Where are you, baby? Are you okay?"

"Home, and …" She lets out a loud breath, the silence is killing me. But I have to let her work through every thought before I can speak because I don't have much to offer. "I think I'm okay."

She's not. It's in her voice—the fear. Pushing aside the memories of our loss, I swallow my doubts and hide my anxiety. She needs me to be strong for the two of us. As I contain the negative thoughts, I see what matters—who matters.

Our baby.

A new addition to our family. And I have to be strong for the three of us. It won't be easy, her doctors warned us last year when we went for a consultation, but it's possible.

Shoving my stuff inside the car as I climb in, I try to cheer her up. "Of course you're okay, just surprised."

"They said we had to wait a couple of years," she mumbles, and I can picture her. She's in the music room, sitting by the bay window that faces the lake. Her favorite spot to play Breezy. Toby curled on her lap. Wade snuggled close to her feet. "We had thirteen months to go before we… I need you."

"I know. I'm almost there, Nine," I assure her as I drive through the busy streets of Seattle. "Have you scheduled an appointment with the doctor?"

"No, and don't ask me why, because I'm in a pretty bad place. A shitty-fucked-up-negative place." I hear Toby purr and Wade whine.

She's all worked up, and I only have a few minutes before I find my wife transforming into a puddle of tears. I hate to see her sad. Though, it reminds me that even on her worst days, she'll wake up the next and smile.

She heals like a phoenix and it's beautiful to watch her brighten everyone's lives.

"You're going to be okay," I remind her. "You and the baby."

Fuck. Almost there. Only a couple of minutes. I remain quiet, listening to her breathing, waiting for her to make the next move.

"The doctor is going to run tests. A sonogram—or ultrasound. I can't remember." Another long pause, my heart tightens remembering the last time we went to one of those. That's when I met James. Our baby. She was scared about her parents' reaction, angry, and fearful about Porter's attitude. But she was happy to meet him too. "I don't want to meet someone I might lose. I can't."

Thank fuck the last words come as I turn off the car's engine. I rush to her studio, finding her just as I imagined her. Except, "Why are you holding my jacket?"

Her head tilts slightly, her face is a rainbow of emotions.

"Your scent"—she smells my jacket— "is helping me keep my shit together. I'm supposed to be happy. Thrilled. But what if we lose this baby too?"

"We won't, Nine." I lift her from the bench, take a seat, and place her on my lap. "We're older, wiser, and we've done our homework. If I need to, I'll kidnap a few doctors and have them follow you around the clock to make sure our baby and you are fine."

She laughs, loosening the knots on my back. "You're ridiculous."

"No, I'm a man on a mission to love you. To make sure you're happy and keep you safe." I touch her flat belly, kissing her forehead. "And my new mission is to ensure that our little one is happy too. He's not James. We already talked about it, went to therapy. We tried our best, but now we know better."

"Maybe we're having a girl," she whispers, resting her head on top of my chest, placing her hand on top of mine. "Either way, nothing bad will happen to our baby, right? You'll protect us."

"Nothing will happen to you two," I promise, praying that I'm right. She yawns and snuggles herself closer to me. "Take a nap, Nine. Tomorrow, we have a long day at the doctor's office. If we're lucky, we're going to meet our baby. Tonight, we're having a marathon—a love-making marathon."

"I like that," she whispers. "I love you, my superhero."

"Love you too, Nine, with every cell of my body."

"Hire a contractor, boy," Christian told me.

I chose to ignore him, and now I have to pay double to have the renovations of the house done before the entire family arrives.

Those are the consequences of procrastinating, plus having to deal with the most impatient person in the world while she's being attacked by hormones and the need to redecorate. Implanting a bug on the servers of YouTube has crossed my mind as my wife is a fan of watching DIY videos and renovating the house based on them.

The corner of my eye perceives some slight movement and looking up, I find my adorable wife wobbling into my office as she holds her iPad—I must find a way to hide it. She lifts her gaze from the tablet, and her shiny green eyes make me forget why I ranted.

For her, I'll pay to have the house demolished and rebuilt within the next twenty-four hours. Her hair is tied into a bun, and she's wearing a pair of leggings that show her shapely legs, which sprout beneath her adorable round belly, pregnant with my baby.

"Mina emailed me her itinerary." She grins.

Great, my mother now has a traveling plan. That's worse than my wife wanting to have the nursery done as soon as possible and renovate the guest bathroom, too. I finished the nursery in a day, but I'm still dealing with the bathroom.

"How do I tell her that she'll stay next door?"

"Shoot me now," I mumble. "Why next door? We have plenty of room here." Gabe and Chris Decker decided to make next door their permanent residence. It happened slowly. At first, they visited once a month. Then twice, staying longer each time, and ever since we announced that Nine's pregnant, they haven't left the state. They want to keep an eye on their own baby—my wife.

"Mina arrives on Saturday." I don't see the problem as she gives me a date. "That's five days from today."

Nine narrows her eyes as if I said the wrong thing.

"Your father and his new wife are arriving tomorrow." I wait for her to continue after my first reaction to her news. "I can't send them next door to my parents, just like that. First come, first serve."

"A ten-room home." I show her ten fingers.

"Yes, but since Arthur married, Mina can't stand him," she grumbles. "Once a year for a couple of days is bearable. I doubt we want to deal with the baby shower, the families, and their new feud."

Like me, Mom lived with the delusion that my father loved her. Once he retired and found a nice lady to spend his time with, Mom snapped. She divorced husband seven. Then she married husband number eight when Dad married Genevieve.

Having my parents in the same room isn't pleasant, but they both swore to behave for the sake of their grandchild. I threatened them that if they want to see their grandchildren, they better compose themselves.

I send the email to the contractor, accepting his irrational quote, then rise from my seat and walk to Ainse to give her a quick peck on the lips. I lean down to kiss her belly and say to the baby, "As a favor to you, I'll never divorce this woman." I feel a kick, which fills my heart with joy. It never fails. Each time my baby hears my voice there's movement. At least one kick.

"A favor to our baby?" Ainse huffs, placing a hand on her back. "Worse, she's already siding with you."

"Never a favor. I'd never make the same mistake twice—leaving you. I. Love. You. I'd die without you." I kiss her lips, lifting her chin as I stare in her green mirrors. There's a little moisture accumulating inside. Those crazy hormones make her cry each time I melt her heart—that's what she says. "Are you okay?"

"Some of those Braxton Hicks contractions I had a week ago, nothing to worry about. We are at the thirty-two-week mark, five to six more weeks to go."

Last week we made seven trips to the hospital for those contractions. Unless she has stronger ones less than five minutes apart, we shouldn't worry much. Yet we worry for other reasons. Ainse's diabetes makes her pregnancy high-risk. Years ago, we lived through the loss of James. I shake away the thoughts because if I had known back then everything she was going through, I would've taken her with me. Maybe James would still be with us.

"We don't know the baby's gender, yet," I remind her. I bend down and kiss our peanut. "I love you, baby." I then straighten to continue my conversation. "Wade wants a baby brother. Where is he?"

After we rescued Wade two years ago—well, him and his owner Ana, Ainse's best friend—he has become an important part of our family. Even Toby took well to sharing the family with him.

"Papa came for him." She smiles, loving that Gabe and Chris care for Wade and Toby as if they were their grandchildren. "My parents went hiking to Green Lake and invited him to go along. I'm sure our furry children have no preference on what sibling they get, as long as the baby loves them as much as we do. What about your parents?"

"I'll fix it." I cup her chin, kiss her nose, and then her mouth. "Now, tell me the truth, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Ten, though I could use some cuddling." Her bright eyes plead along with her words to be pampered, and I can't refuse her request. "Ana arrives tonight, my grandparents tomorrow morning, your dad's in Vancouver picking up Milli and should arrive tomorrow, too. Mae might come by to surprise Ana. Please, I need you and me time before this house becomes a zoo, Mr. Decker-Bradley."

I groan. After all this time I can't get used to that last name. We agreed she'd take my last name if I took one of hers. This woman has me wrapped around her little finger. If someone had told me as a kid that I'd fall for Ainsley Decker, I wouldn't have believed it. Nevertheless, there's a letter that confirms I've loved her forever and gave her my heart at the age of eight.

Days like today it weighs on me that I almost lost the best thing that has happened to me—her. My fear of the unknown. I'd like to kick my own ass for hurting her, mostly because the last couple of years have been the best of my life, so far.

"No." Ainse touches my jaw as if she knows what I'm thinking about. We're synced that way. "Please don't think about the past."

I take her hand as we head toward the staircase. "Let's go and pamper you, woman. We can discuss names. Elle Even is perfect. Get it? Eleven."

"No, no, and no." She turns down any name I correlate with numbers.

"What about Alexis? That is x-i-s at the end. Six backward?"

Ainse huffs.

"Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker, Oliver, Tony…?"

She glares at me. "Mathematical names, numbers, or equations will not be part of our baby's name. I love you but no. Also, no superhero or alter ego names."

"I love you too, Nine, with all my heart." I kiss her like I do every time, as if it's the first and the last time we'll do so.