I open my eyes and meet his green ones. “Are you okay?” I ask, noting the guarded emotion in his eyes and figuring he’s a little freaked out.
“Shush. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Let’s meet BIRT,” he says with a reassuring smile that gives me just what I need.
A laugh. A moment to relax, albeit brief. This man who is so full of contradictions and owns every piece of my heart. “You’re relentless.”
“And you’re beautiful.”
Tears well. I’m sure it’s the hormones surging through my body or just the connection I feel with him right now in the midst of bringing this life we’ve created into the world, but all of a sudden the tears are there. He reaches out, thumbs on my cheeks, and holds my face in his hands, shaking his head very slowly.
“Thank you,” he says. That shy smile I love ghosts his lips as his emerald eyes swell with unfathomable emotion. And I’m not sure what it is he’s thanking me for—those simple words could mean so many things—so I just nod my head ever so subtly because he has no idea how much those two words and the intention behind them mean to me.
“Another contraction is coming, Rylee. I need you to be strong. A couple more pushes and I think we are going to meet your new little miracle,” Dr. Steele says, interrupting the moment and reinvigorating my depleted energy.
“Okay.” I nod my head as Colton’s hand squeezes mine.
“Give me a good push,” she says.
A deep breath in. My whole body taut as I hold my breath and push. Dizziness hits as the ten-second count slowly comes to an end. The world fading to black as every part of my body is exhausted.
“There’s the head,” she says, pulling me from the darkness and making this all more real, more urgent than I ever could have imagined. “Lots of dark hair.”
And when I open my eyes, Colton has shifted so he can look down to see the baby. His expression when he looks back at me? Fear and inexplicable emotion in his tear-filled eyes. His jaw is slack and awe is written all over his face. Our connection is brief but intense before the mesmerizing sight of our baby pulls his eyes away from mine once again.
And as envious as I am that he gets to see our miracle first, I also know I’ll never forget his expression. The pride and astonishment etched in the lines of his face have forever imprinted in the space of my heart.
MY HAND IS SQUEEZED IN a goddamn vise-like grip.
My heart is too but for a completely different reason.
The sight in front of me. Incredible. Indescribable. Grounding in a way I never thought possible.
“This is the hard one, Ry. Last push and you’re done,” Dr. Steele says, as she looks up at her and then back down to where my eyes are glued. “And go.”
My hand is squeezed. Rylee’s moan fills the room. Her body tenses. “Spiderman. Batman. Superman. Ironman.” The words come from out of nowhere. I’m not even sure if I whisper them aloud or just in my head. But the only other thought that flickers is that they belong here.
Full circles.
And then all thoughts are lost. Emotion rules. Pride swells. A tiny pair of shoulders emerge followed quickly by a little body.
Snapshots of time pass. Seconds that feel like hours.
My breath is stolen. Hijacked. Robbed. And so is my goddamn heart because there’s no other way to describe what I feel as Dr. Steele says, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!”
“Oh shit.” My whole world picks up, moves, flips upside down, and reverses on its axis. And I couldn’t be happier about it.
Soft cries. Dark hair. Cutting the cord. A blur of disbelief as my eyes lock on the baby. My son.
Holy motherfucking shit.
My son.
I’m a dad.
The moment hits me like a goddamn sucker punch—every part of me reacting to the impact—as Dr. Steele places him on Rylee’s belly. Nurses wipe him off as Ry’s sobs fill the room when she gets to see him for the first time.
I’m looking at fingers and toes and ears and eyes and trying to figure out how this completely perfect little person is a part of me.
How is it even possible?
Swimming in emotion, I lean down and press a kiss to Rylee’s forehead. Her eyes are as focused as mine on our son. “I love you,” I murmur with my lips still pressed against her skin.
His crying stops instantly the minute Ry cradles him in her arms. He knows. How simple is that? And if I thought I was sucker-punched before, the sight of her holding our son is the knockout punch. I’m looking down at his little face and hers next to each other, and shit I never expected to feel in my life surges through me, wraps around my heart, and fills it in a way I never thought was possible.
My whole fucking world.
My Rylee. My son. My everything.
“He’s beautiful,” she says, awe in her voice and tears sliding down her cheeks. She presses a kiss to the top of his head, and for some reason the visual hits me hard.
The future flashes: first steps, skinned knees, first homerun, first kiss, first love.
Tears sting. My chest constricts. All I can think is that this little boy may get kissed by a lot of women during his lifetime but this first kiss is the most important.
He’s taken from her. Cries fill the room. He’s measured and weighed. Tested and looked over. I can’t take my eyes off him for a single second.
I glance back and find Ry. Her eyes match mine—both so overwhelmed with everything that we don’t have words. I feel like such a sap—the tears in my eyes, the inability to speak—like I should be the arrogant bastard I normally am. It seems even assholes like me have a soft spot. Yeah. Ry’s always been that to me, but I have a feeling I just found another that aces all the rest.