Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Hours pass in fragments. I drift between moments of sharp pain and brief relief, between Becca’s laughter trying to distract me and Damien’s voice urging me to breathe. At one point, when the pain feels unbearable, I think I might break. Damien leans close, pressing his forehead to mine. “You are stronger than this, Lyra. You are stronger than anything. I believe in you.”
The conviction in his tone pushes me through another wave.
The labor is rough, far harder than I imagined. The contractions feel like they’ll tear me apart, and there are moments when I cry into Damien’s chest, convinced I can’t go on. But then I hear the doctor say it’s almost time, that our son is ready, and something inside me steels. This is what all these months of waiting and aching have been for. I grip Damien’s hand and push with every ounce of strength left in me.
His voice never leaves me. He counts, he praises, he tells me I’m incredible. Becca strokes my hair and cheers me on, tears in her eyes. The room is full of sound and motion, and yet all I focus on is the man at my side and the tiny life I’m fighting to bring into the world.
Then it happens. One final push, one final cry of effort, and the room fills with the sound of a newborn’s wail. My body collapses back against the bed, tears pouring down my face as the nurse lays our baby boy on my chest. He is so small, warm, and perfect, his cries high and desperate as he curls against me. I cradle him with trembling arms, pressing my lips to his damp forehead.
“Hi, baby,” I whisper, sobbing with relief and joy. “I’m so glad to meet you.”
Damien leans over me, his own eyes wet, his hand cupping our son’s tiny head. He kisses me, then kisses our boy, whispering, “My son. My little one.”
His voice breaks, and I see a rawness in him I have never seen before. This man who has always been so controlled, so powerful, looks undone by the sight of his child.
Becca is crying outright now, covering her mouth with both hands.
“He’s beautiful,” she says softly, leaning close to kiss my cheek. The doctor checks us both quickly, then smiles and nods.
“He’s perfectly healthy,” he tells us. “We’ll just get him cleaned up.”
Relief surges through me again, fresh and overwhelming. The nurse takes him away for a few minutes before giving him back, all freshly scrubbed and swaddled in a warm blanket.
Eventually, the doctor and Becca step out, giving us privacy. The room falls quiet except for the soft cries of our son as he nestles against my chest. Damien sits on the edge of the bed, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, pulling us both into the circle of his strength. He strokes our son’s tiny back with one hand, his other hand clasping mine.
I look up at him through my tears, and the words fall from my lips without thought. “I have never been happier in my life.”
He presses his lips to mine, slow and tender, then leans to kiss our son again. “Neither have I,” he answers.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
DAMIEN
Three Years Later
Lyra knocks lightly on my office door, but she doesn’t wait for my answer. She never does. I used to punish men for interrupting me so casually, but Lyra knows she never has to wait for me. I’m always happy to see her.
She’s wearing the expression I know too well, a look of satisfaction after finishing something complicated, with the glow of a job well done. She leans down and kisses me, just a brush of lips, but I can taste the smile she’s holding back.
“I finally finished the software update,” she announces. “Everything should be running smoother now. No glitches, no lag. You might even get fewer panicked calls from the systems team for once.”
I smirk, tugging her closer until she ends up perched on the edge of my desk.
“You make it sound like you didn’t just pull off something most companies would need a team of twenty to manage.”
She shrugs, modest as always, though her eyes shine. “Well, I did have a little help.”
My hand settles on her thigh, squeezing once. “Without you, Integrated Systems would be limping along. Take the credit every once in a while.”
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t argue. She’s learned I do not flatter for the sake of it.
“Fine,” she says, tilting her head. “But I want more than just credit. I want us to go on a vacation.”
I can’t help but remember our first one, that private island where she first saw who I really was. Everything changed between us there. We went to the same island for our honeymoon, leaving Damien Jr. with her sister and spending the entire week naked on the beach.