The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless 13)

“Oh shit. Fuck, I’m on my way!”

“Calm down and be safe—”

I hung up and left all my shit behind. “I’m having a baby! I’m having a fucking baby!”

Deacon grinned as he got to his feet. “Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride.”

A day later, she came.

Seven pounds and three ounces.

Beautiful. Perfect. With my eyes.

The second she came out, the nurses handed the baby to Daisy, giving her the chance to hold her first.

Daisy hugged her close and cried, suddenly forgetting all the pain she was in. “Honey, you’re finally here…”

I looked her over, seeing a perfectly healthy, normal little girl with all her fingers and toes. I was in a state of disbelief, unable to believe how lucky I was, that this moment had happened.

The love was instant.

Unconditional.

So powerful.

She cried and cried, but it was a beautiful sound to me.

The most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

Daisy turned to me. “Here…”

My arms instantly went underneath hers, and we made the transfer with such ease, it was as if we’d been parents for years. I cradled her to me, brought her close to my face, and saw the most perfect little person ever. “Wow…you’re beautiful.”

Daisy watched us together, her eyes wet and soft, her hand on my elbow.

The nurse came over to take her away. “Let me clean her up.”

I’d only held her in my arms once, and I already didn’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever.

Our place was a mess.

Baby stuff everywhere.

Cries pierced the silence all the time. Daisy had to breastfeed every two hours. Our alone time and our privacy were long gone.

But it was totally worth it.

Billie was asleep in Daisy’s arms, in the white onesie I’d bought months ago on the way home from work. She hardly moved, sometimes fluttering her hands to her face, but sleeping soundly. She would be this way for a couple hours before it was time to feed again.

I sat beside Daisy, my arm around her shoulders, her head resting against me. I pressed a kiss to her temple, staring at our daughter, still in awe of the little person we’d created together, against all the odds.

“I love her so much…”

“I know. Me too.”

Daisy released a quiet sigh.

“So…when do you want to have another one?”

She gave a laugh like I was crazy. “You aren’t exhausted yet?”

“No, I am. But it’s worth it.”

“Well, you didn’t have to push her out of your vagina.”

“You’d be the first one to say she’s worth it too.”

“Yeah, I would.”

The three of us sat together as a family on the couch, the silence around us, enjoying this moment in time. I wanted life to stand still, to stay this way forever. I didn’t feel lost anymore. I had my own family now. I had my wife. I had my daughter.

I had everything.

Epilogue

Deacon

We touched down in Stockholm, Sweden.

The entire Hamilton crew along for the ride.

It was freezing cold, snow on the sidewalks of the streets, the air so icy, it was hard to breathe.

The last time I was here, I’d been a young man. My career had just begun. Now I was back, but it felt different from last time. Not because I already had a Nobel. But because my son and daughter were getting their first.

The pride…was indescribable.

Every member of the family had to come along for the moment, everyone taking time off work, Lizzie taking a short absence from Harvard. It was a once-in-a-lifetime achievement, and we needed to experience it together.

When I’d gotten my medal, I just had my mom and my brother.

Now I had the family I’d made with the love of my life.

We checked in to the hotel and slept overnight before we went to the ceremony the following day. I greeted colleagues I hadn’t seen in years, and they congratulated me on my research. I did the same to them. Everyone in that room had accomplished great things in their fields, from chemistry to literature.

It was an honor just to be there.

I took my seat on the stage with Daisy beside me, Atlas on the other side of her. The theatre was full of friends and family, their faces slightly visible in the darkness. I could see my wife, smiling through her tears. I knew she wasn’t just proud of me.

She was proud of the life that we’d built.

The most brilliant doctor I’d ever known was on that stage with me—and it wasn’t Atlas.

It was my little girl.

I couldn’t be more proud.

They announced our names, and together as a family, we took our positions by the podium.

The medallion was placed over my neck first, the weight identical to how I remembered it.

Atlas gestured for Daisy to go next.

She stepped forward. Her smile was absent, her face serious. But her eyes showed so much.

Her daughter was in the audience, and while she was too young to remember this later, it meant the world to Daisy that the one person she cared most about was there with her.