Irreparably Broken (Irreparable 1)

In about four months, the quaint space is not going to be nearly big enough, and we’ll have to spend more time at our house. Brady and I are having a baby. Apparently birth control is not one-hundred percent reliable. It wasn’t a planned pregnancy, but it is a blessing. A baby that will always know its father, and never wonder if he or she is wanted.

We’re on the bed, and Brady is on his stomach with his head in my lap. My eyes follow his shoulders to his hips, landing on the colorful swirls of orange and red – his newest tattoo, peeking out of his shorts. He’d wanted to remove the tattoo of Vanessa’s name, but I talked him out of it. She’d brought us together, and her name on his skin is a reminder of that. I smile, thinking about when he came home and showed me what he had done to it.

He added a colorful sun above her name, and now after the word Vanessa it says brought my sunshine. I was touched immensely, and I didn’t even give him a hard time about the nickname he’ll forever call me.

Brady smiles, and I follow his eyes to the manila envelope the ultrasound tech handed us a few weeks ago. Brady, being the sardonic fool he is, had handed the tech a pink tissue and a blue tissue, instructing her to place the appropriate color inside. Moments ago he begged me to finally open it. He can’t stand waiting a second longer. He’s sure it’s pink, and I’m sure it’s blue.

I pick up the envelope and hand it to him. “Go ahead, open it.”

“I changed my mind. It’s a girl. A sweet, beautiful blue-eyed girl who looks just like her mama.” His elated smile makes me melt.

I snatch the envelope back from him and quickly swipe my finger under the envelope’s flap, releasing the seal. I peek inside and try to keep my mouth flat.

He quirks a brow and smiles knowingly. “I knew it. It’s a girl.”

“I didn’t say that,” I tell him point-blank.

He throws his arms around my waist and presses me to the bed. “You don’t have to, Sunshine. I can read you better than anyone.”

I pull the pink tissue from the envelope and toss it at him. He chuckles. We look directly at each other and at the same time we say his mother’s name. Mona, our baby girl.

“We need a middle name, too.”

He has a devilish grinned pasted to his face. “I have one.”

“What?”

“Sol.”

“Sol? What the hell does that mean?”

He laughs. “It’s ‘sunshine’ in Spanish.”

I slap his chest. “No freaking way are we naming our daughter something you made up while you were thinking about porn. Besides, I have a name picked out already.”

“Okay, what do you got?”

“Olivia.” My eyes well up. His sister and my best friend.

“Mona Olivia. It’s perfect.” He smiles.

I press my lips to his and kiss him softly. He’s mine, and I love him beyond anything I've ever thought possible. Sometimes painfully so. “I love you, Brady.”

“I love you, too. Thank you for picking up the pieces and gluing my heart back together. Without you, I would’ve been irreparably broken.”