Page 78 of Dark Christmas
“Hospital forms? ID? Phone charger?” he fires off, grabbing stuff along the way.
“I think—wait, I didn’t even know we had forms,” I mutter, frantically checking my pockets for my phone.
He’s already on his phone with the hospital as I’m slipping on my shoes. I shoot a quick text to Claire.
Water broke. Heading to the hospital!
Her reply comes instantly, all cap.
OMG SO EXCITING! KEEP ME POSTED!
We pile into the car, and as we pull out of the driveway, I steal a quick glance at my old house across the street. A new girl moved in a few months ago and is sitting on the stoop, earbuds in, scrolling through her phone. She’s young, probably just getting her life started. I feel a weird pang of nostalgia, remembering when that was me.
But I wouldn’t trade my life now for anything. Not for a second.
Melor speeds toward the hospital, and soon we’re pulling up to the entrance. My heart's pounding, but it’s not just nerves, it’s excitement, too. We’re about to meet our baby.
We rush through the hospital doors, everything flying by in a total blur. The contractions are getting closer and closer together, and I’m fairly sure time doesn’t even exist anymore. Just pain, breathing, and Melor at my side. His hand never leaves my shoulder, always there grounding me, while the doctors do their thing.
We decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise, and even though I know I’ll love this little bean no matter what, the curiosity is killing me.
I don’t even remember getting into the delivery room or changing into a gown but the next thing I know I’m hearing the doctor say, “Push.”
And suddenly, it happens. I feel the release, and I hear the baby’s first cry. My heart swells like it’s going to burst.
“It’s a boy!” the nurse announces, placing him on my chest.
A boy. My beautiful, perfect baby boy.
I look down at him, this tiny human we made together, and I fall in love so hard it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. His little fingers curl around mine, and I’m done, completely wrecked in the best way possible.
Melor leans over, kissing the top of my head, then looks down at his son, the love in his eyes unmistakable.
“Hey, little guy,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “Welcome to the world.”
We spend some blissful alone time fawning over our little guy. He’s perfect. I can’t stop staring at his tiny nose and his little fingers wrapped around mine. It’s like I’ve known him my whole life. One of the nurses takes him for a quick clean-up, weigh-in, and testing, and as we watch from the bed, Melor and I chat.
“So, I know we had both boy and girl names picked out already, but I’ve been thinking.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s on your mind?”
I bite my lip, suddenly nervous to tell him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about it.”
He shifts closer, his full attention on me now. “Go on.”
I take a deep breath. “How would you feel about naming him Sasha?”
The look on his face stops my heart for a second. Melor’s not a man who cries, like ever, but I can tell my words hit him right in the chest. He swallows hard, taking my hand and squeezing ittight.
“That’s a great idea,” he says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I love it.”
When the nurse brings our baby back, it’s Dad’s turn to hold him. I watch as Melor cradles little Sasha in his arms, his big, strong hands so gentle with this tiny new life. My heart feels like it’s going to burst from all the love that is filling me.
Epilouge II
Melor
December, two years later…