41. Epilogue - Keke

I blink against the hospital’s fluorescent lights, trying to hold onto the moment. People in the halls smile warmly at both of us while a nurse wheels me forward. As we head for the room where I’ll meet my child, it hits me.

I’m about to become a mom.

My body has gone through so many changes over the past months. I laugh at myself as we enter the room.

“What’s so funny?” Luke asks.

“I… I don’t think I can do this.”

Just then, a contraction hits, squeezing my body from the inside out. Menstrual cramps had nothing on this. My grip tightens on Luke’s hand, and to his credit, he doesn’t flinch.

“Breathe, baby. Just like they taught us in class.” He demonstrates to remind me, encouraging me to join him.

As much as I love him, I want to punch him.

But I do it, following his lead, and eventually, it passes. They help me onto the bed, a flurry of nurses coming in and out with questions.

“Are we doing an epidural?”

“No, I hate needles.”

“Okay, but we can only give it to you up to a certain point. Have you picked a name for the baby yet?”

I hate that question even though I know she’s just making conversation. “We’re waiting to meet them first.”

She smiles at that and glances at Luke. “Is there a list you’re choosing from?”

Luke smiles at me. “I think that’s a mom question.”

Oh God. I’m about to be a mom.

It keeps hitting me over and over, like the contractions.

“How about it, Mom? Is there a list you’re choosing from?”

I stare at her blankly until her question registers. “Um, no. Like I said, I want to meet them first. Then we’ll figure that out.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick something perfect. Can I get either of you anything?”

I grip Luke’s hand as another contraction hits, and this time, there’s a flinch. But he doesn’t pull away. He breaths with me, eyes locked on mine helping me through it.

Every part of me feels heavy except for my heart which is light and happy. Our child is on the way, and I have the honor of bringing them into the world. As scared as I am about being a mom, we’re starting a new chapter in our lives together, and that is?—

Fuck . I brace for the contraction, and he reminds me of my breaths again. Luke squeezes my hand, grounding me, his thumb tracing lines, his steady gaze holding me firm.

“I’ll let them know your contractions are getting closer together,” the nurse says.

Sweat pours down my face, along with everywhere else. “I thought this was supposed to be a beautiful miracle.”

“It is,” he says supportively.

“I feel like I’m hungover after a three-day bender.”

He snorts a laugh. “Know much about three-day benders, do you?”

“There are things about me you should know.”

“Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“After Michael’s accident, I sort of lost myself. He went into rehab, and I could have used it, too. But not for drugs. Well, okay there were some drugs, but more for guys.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath, and this time, he’s the one who braces.

“I dated every good-looking boy I could find. Dad had left us a few years before, and with Michael in rehab, and Mom being a total bitch about everything, I needed attention, so I found it. A lot. I partied all through high school, and when I got to college, I partied some more. I was a waste of space, as Mom put it. I didn’t get serious about life until sophomore year.”

“I’m sorry you felt like you needed to do that, but all of that brought you here to this moment.”

“You’re not disappointed in me?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No.” Luke kisses my forehead before continuing. “I stand by what I said, baby. I’m not disappointed in you. All of that just means we have more in common than I thought. We were both wild in our youth and that means we know what to watch out for when our child comes. I’ve got you. You’ve got me. And we’ve got them. You hear me?”

And just like that, all the shame I’ve been carrying about those years evaporates. As it turns out, all I needed was a little perspective. I was an expert in being a troubled teen. He’s right—I do know the signs to watch out for because I’d been there already. He had, too. The lies, the partying, the drugs, every bad choice had prepared me for what was to come.

I gulp and nod. “We’ve got this.”

“That’s right. We do.”

I’m shouting at the top of my lungs an hour after my confessional crisis.

“You’re almost there, Keke, just one more push.”

I nod, feeling his strength bolster mine. I need that more than I can tell him in the moment, vowing to tell him later how much he helped me.

In a final burst of pain, I feel a rush and a release, followed by intense relaxation, almost like a drug taking hold.

Then, suddenly, a sound fills the room—a small, ragged, piercing cry that echoes through my soul.

I blink, my breath catching in my throat as the doctor holds up a small, wriggling, red-faced baby. Luke cuts the cord, and they take the baby away for a moment to do initial vital checks.

“It’s a boy!”

A son. I have a son.

Luke’s hand tightens around mine as the nurse brings our son over to me, placing his tiny, warm body against my chest. His skin is soft, his face scrunched as he lets out another small wail, his little fists clenched and waving. My mind goes quiet as I gaze down at him. A primal protective love swells inside me, so powerful it takes up every corner of my heart and soul. It’s in that moment that I know I will do anything for this child. Anything.

For a few perfect moments, I let myself simply be there, listening to his breaths, feeling his skin, his nearly bald head. This is my son, and everything about him is perfect.

I look at Luke, trying to keep the fear from showing, but he knows it’s there.

“Keke, you’re going to be an amazing mom. You’re not your mother. You’re not going to walk away, and you’re not going to hurt him the way she hurt you. I know that because I know you.”

A tear slips down my cheek, though it might have been sweat. “But what if… what if I don’t know what to do at times?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone, Keke. You’ll never be alone. You have me, you have your brother, you have Whitney, and everyone else in our lives who loves you. And even if we make mistakes—and we will—we’ll fix them together. Every time.”

I look back down at our son, his peaceful face nestled against me. Luke is right—I wasn’t alone. I have him, and we are in this together, a family bound by love and loyalty. Nothing will tear us apart.

I rested my hand on our son’s back, his heartbeat a steady rhythm that echoes the one in my own chest. “Always and forever, little one.”

A gentle knock sounds at the door, a nurse peeking in with a bright smile. “You’ve got quite the crowd out here,” she says with a laugh, nodding toward the hallway. “Looks like everyone’s eager to meet your new addition.”

Luke grins, holding up his phone to reveal a series of messages and FaceTime calls from the team, his family, Michael, and Whitney. I laugh, imagining the scene outside the room—Whitney standing guard, the team crowded around, eager to welcome the newest member of our family.

“You get some rest,” Luke says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ll go give them the news.”

He steps out and I settle back against the pillows, the warmth of our son against me a comfort. I let my eyes close, exhaustion tugging at me as I drift off, feeling the last traces of fear fade away.

When I wake, the room is bathed in the pale light of early morning. Luke stands by the window, our son cradled in his arms. He hums a tune, and I watch, transfixed, as he rocks him gently.

I’d always known Luke would be a good father, but seeing him now, I realize that he was more than that. He was everything I’d ever wanted.

Luke was my partner in every sense of the word.

He looks over, a smile spreading across his face as he sees that I’m awake. He strides over, carefully placing our son back in my arms. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning,” I whisper, as to not wake the baby.

Luke settles beside me, his arm around my shoulders as we gaze down at our son. We hadn’t named him yet and we were okay with that.

We sat there together for a while, wrapped in each other’s presence. Somehow, in the stillness of the hospital room, the rest of the world feels very far away. As I look down at our son, I memorize the delicate lines of his face, noticing he has his father’s nose.

I know how fleeting life is, and how hard I’ll fight for this tiny bundle in my arms. He’s so loved already and each moment with him is a gift.

Love certainly is a strange thing. Staring at my son, I am overwhelmed by how deeply I feel for him—gentle, soft and loving on one side of the coin yet on the other, there’s a fiery rage at the thought of any harm coming to him.

A quiet knock sounds at the door, and a nurse enters, her face bright with a beaming smile as she places an elaborate stack of gift baskets along the window, each one overflowing with cards, more small reminders of the people who love us. The window was the last spot in the room to put them—every other surface was covered in flowers and oversized stuffed animals.

My favorite was the giraffe. It was as tall as Luke. He named her Janet.

“Your team is really spoiling this little one,” the nurse says with a laugh. “They must really care about you two.”

“They do,” Luke replies and smiles. He had informed me that when he went to give everyone the news that we were both fine and it was a boy, that was all he was able to say. After that, there were so many cheers and such an outpouring of hugs and well wishes, he didn’t need to say anything else.

Those people are like our family and I’m so glad that we have them. Our son will have multiple uncles and aunts between Michael, Evie, Whitney, and the team.

The nurse asks if we need anything, letting us know breakfast is on the way. I am particularly happy to hear that. I’ve been ravenously devouring the goodies in the gift baskets.

Luke reaches over to one of them, pulling out a small, handwritten note from Whitney. “To the best parents I know. You’ve got this. Love always, Whit.”

My sister from another mister. Maybe one day soon, my sister-in-law.

“I hope she’s right,” I murmur against our son’s little noggin as he sleeps on my chest.

Luke smiles. “Of course, she is. She’s Whitney.”

I giggle at that. She is always right. I sigh deeply and think aloud, “How do you feel about Dylan?”

“I knew a Dylan once. Great guy.” He pauses. “Bit of a troublemaker, though.”

“Oh?”

“He liked to hotwire cars and take them for joyrides. And by joyrides, I mean use them for getaway cars in armed robberies.”

I blink at him. “When did you know someone like that?”

“Same time everyone else did. He was the team accountant when I first came on.”

I snort out a laugh. “And now?”

“Now, we use a firm, since Dylan’s in prison.”

“Okay, so not Dylan.” I think some more while staring at our baby’s sleeping face. “Reese?”

“Reese Smith? Too many s’s. Sounds like re-Smith.”

I hear it, too, now that he said it out loud.

A staffer peeks her head in. “I’ve got breakfast for Mom and Dad. Is that okay?”

“Yes, please,” I respond, happy to see her and the trays on her cart.

She sets them up for us, and Luke asks, “They won’t let us leave with an unnamed baby, right?”

She chuckles. “The baby is yours, named or not.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

She continues. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’ve never seen them not allow a couple to leave the hospital because they hadn’t named their baby yet. It’s for the birth certificate filing.”

“That’s good to know,” Luke says. “But since you’re an expert in the matter, what boy names do you like?”

“Oh, gosh. Well, I’ve always liked Oscar, but no one else seems to when I bring it up.”

Luke mischievously smiles down at me. “He is a bit of a grouch, especially when he’s hungry.”

I laugh. “He is. And considering your family’s occupation, it only seems right that you get an Oscar, too.”

He bends down, smiling at our son. “What do you think, little man? Are you an Oscar?”

Our son scrunches his eyes before opening them to look at his father. Then wails.

“I think that’s his version of yes,” Luke says.

“Oscar Smith, it is,” I confirm.

The staffer gasps. “Really?”

“Yes. Say hello to Oscar.”

“Hi, Baby Oscar. It’s so nice to meet you,” she says, beaming at him.

We ask her for her name, and after she leaves, Luke suggests doing something nice for her. “We should buy her a car.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I think that might be overdoing it. And besides, I’m sure she already has one.”

“Fine, I’ll figure out something.”

With Luke’s hand resting on mine, I know we have everything we need.

Our love, our Oscar, and each other.

Forever.

THE END