“Emily, I give you this ring as a token of my love, and I promise you that I will love you, honor you, cherish you all of the days of our lives, in sickness and in health.” He slides the ring down and then kisses them.
“Ethan,” he says. “You may now kiss your bride.”
“Finally,” he says, making everyone laugh. He grabs my face like he always does and brings me in closer. “Forever, Sunrise,” he says, kissing me on the lips. Our friends and family cheer and clap while he kisses me and then gets down and kisses my stomach, rubbing his hands over it like he does every single day.
The preacher now announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Ethan McIntyre.”
Epilogue Two
Ethan
Four months later
“You are doing so well,” I say, pushing back the hair on her head as she tries to push again. The agony is all over her face, and it’s taking everything in my power not to punch the wall.
“It hurts,” she tells me, her voice going so low. “I’m so tired.” She looks at me, and her face is pale because she’s been in labor for two days now. Her water finally broke fourteen hours ago. We came when she started getting contractions, but we were sent home, and until they were four minutes apart, we were told that it was just the course it would take.
“I know you are, Sunrise,” I say. “And if I could, I would take away all your pain.”
“Okay, Emily,” the doctor says from between her legs. “It’s time to push again.”
“I can’t,” Emily says, crying. “I can’t.”
“You can,” I say, holding her hand. “Look at me,” I say. “Look at me.” She turns her head. “You are the strongest person I know. You can do this.”
“Push,” the doctor says, and Emily grips my hand as hard as she can and pushes while the doctor and the nurse both count to ten. “Again,” the doctor says, and Emily grunts out when she finally gets to the next ten.
“I see a head,” the nurse says from the other side of Emily. “Lots of hair.”
“Okay, I need you to give us everything that you have,” the doctor says, and Emily grips my hand again, and she does it. “One more push and your baby is going to be here,” she says, and Emily pushes one more time, and then it happens so fast. The baby comes out, she suctions something out of the mouth, and the sound of crying fills the room. The doctor places the baby directly onto Emily’s chest, and she sobs, holding the baby in her arms. My own tears pour down my face as I hug her and the baby in my arms. “It’s a boy,” the doctor says, and all I can hear is Emily sobbing as she talks to him.
“He’s so beautiful,” she says, kissing his head. “Ethan, look at our baby.” She doesn’t have to tell me because I can’t take my eyes off him. He is perfect and pink and huge. The nurse smiles at us.
“Daddy,” the doctor calls me. “Time to cut the cord.” She hands me the scissors and tells me to cut between two yellow pegs.
“Okay, I have to get him cleaned up,” the nurse says, taking the baby away from Emily, and I almost shout at her to bring him back.
“Ethan, go with him,” she tells me, and I just shake my head.
“I’m not leaving you,” I say, sitting next to her as the doctor finishes with her, my eye on the nurse in the corner as she does what she needs to do.
She comes back to us, our son wrapped in a blue blanket with a blue hat on his head. “He is a big boy at nine pounds, ten ounces.” She places the baby in my arms, and I don’t think I have ever felt a love like this. A love that is so unconditional that it just pours through your bones. Knowing that you are going to protect him, teach him, love him, it’s a love that is so powerful nothing can break the bond. “Good job, Momma.”
“Hey there,” I tell him between tears, his eyes blinking open and closed as he takes in his new world. “I’m going to be by your side your whole life,” I say, and he opens his mouth like he is going to answer me. “Sunrise,” I say, and she looks at me. “What do we call him?”
She smiles. “Let’s tell the family together.”
I hand her the baby and walk out into the waiting room. I walk into the room, expecting for just our parents to be there, but the room is full of family, mostly mine, and when I walk in, the room goes quiet. “I have a son,” I say, and the cheers erupt, but it’s my father who catches me before I hit the floor. “I have a son,” I tell him between sobs as he hugs me. “A son.”