He’s perfect.
The doctor goes to lay him on Tristan’s chest, but she stops him. “No, his mom wants to do skin-to-skin.”
His mom.
I’m his dad.
The doctor doesn’t miss a beat and nods before I’m handed some scissors. Through tears, I cut the cord, and when I look at Claire, she’s taking off her shirt with no cares in the world. They wipe him down and then hand him to Claire, his face resting against her chest as he cries. I wasn’t so sure about this skin-to-skin thing, but Claire is all about it, and apparently it’s good since his cries are slowing down.
I walk around the bed to Claire, and I wrap my arms around her as we look down at him. We’re both sobbing messes, but even so, we have grins on our faces. His eyes are a dark brown with a head full of dark brown hair. From what Tristan said, his birth father is of Latin American descent. Our boy’s got olive skin and is freaking adorable. Chunky little thing. I move my finger along his cheek, and one thing is for sure.
I’m completely in love with him.
Claire looks up at me, and her beautiful blue eyes glisten with tears. To see her there, holding a baby and looking like she’s won the lottery, I just knew it. I lean into h
er, and I kiss her forehead.
“Told ya.”
She brings in her brows. “What?”
“I told you I would fall all over again for you.”
A wide grin comes over her face, and then our lips meet.
Our son lets out a little cry, and I hold my family close to me.
In an instant, I know what completion feels like.
Our Angel
Claire
He’s absolutely perfect.
He has the longest brown lashes I have ever seen. His dark brown eyes are beautiful against his olive skin. He’s got an adorable little button nose and thick pink lips that I know he inherited from Tristan. My heart is full and soaring in my chest as I gaze down at him, moving my fingers along his cherubic cheeks. Everything from before—the negative pregnancy test, the stress of not giving Jude a baby—all of it doesn’t matter. It’s a distant thought because I am in love with my son.
Our son.
I gaze up at Jude as he looks down at our baby lovingly. Boy, do I love this man. He is so strong. Such a pillar in my life. I don’t know what I would do without him. Sometimes I start to feel worthless, but I know I’m not every time our eyes meet. He loves me unconditionally. I reach up a hand, cupping his jaw that is dusted with hair, as our eyes meet.
“I love you.”
His eyes darken, and he leans his temple into mine. “I love you.”
He kisses the side of my head and exhales. The doctors are cleaning up Tristan, and I want to be with her, support her, but I don’t want to let this perfect boy go. I hold the baby close as I look over at her. “You okay?”
She gives me a thumbs-up. “Getting the placenta out. It’s the next part, according to that stupid book you bought me. You happy?”
“Beyond.”
She has tears in her eyes as she nods. “Great. Skin-to-skin it up while I finish this.”
Jude chuckles softly. She’s a damn rock star. “Do you want to hold him?”
“Nope. Skin-to-skin, remember?”
Our eyes meet for a moment before she looks away, and I know that’s not it. It kills me that she doesn’t want to hold him, but he isn’t hers. He’s ours. I really thought her mom would show up, and it breaks my heart that she didn’t. Tristan could have used the support before we got here.