“Not want to do this?” he finally said after long seconds, the shock in his voice clear. “Baby,” he said and moved closer, “this is all I’ve wanted since the moment you said you’d be mine.” And then he dropped to his knees and covered my belly with his hands. “And now you have my baby in you.”
Tears fell instantly, and I didn’t bother wiping them away. He stayed down there for long seconds, just holding his hands on my belly. Any thought I might have had about Brendan not being okay with this went right out the damn window.
He opened the ring box and stared up at me. “Meghan, although I’m pretty sure you know what’s going on—” he said and smiled, and I couldn’t help but return it with my own watery grin. “But you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only woman that means anything to me. Without you, I don’t exist. Without you in my life, I’m nothing but a shell of a man.”
God, here were more tears.
“It’s because of you I’m a better person and want to be that way until the day I die. I waited until you graduated before doing this, because I knew that’s what you wanted. But I want you to know I have wanted you as my wife since the moment you told me you loved me.”
I wiped my tears away, feeling like I was floating above all of this, experiencing it from another point of view.
“I can’t picture myself being with anyone else, sharing my life with any other woman.” He still held one hand on my belly, and I felt his fingers lightly flex on my cotton-covered stomach. “And now you’re giving me a baby, Meghan.” He still held the ring up, a gorgeous solitaire that was perfect in every way. “You’ve already made me the happiest man ten times over, but saying yes would be pretty incredible, too.”
I chuckled softly and nodded. “Yes.” He stood and wrapped me in an embrace. For long seconds, he just held me, and it was the best feeling in the world. Then he pulled away, removed the ring from the box, and slipped it on my finger.
“You’ve always been mine; this just makes it official.”
I laughed softly after he spoke. I’d always been Brendan’s, and I always would be.
Epilogue
Brendan
Nine months later
I was a father.
So much joy, so much happiness, filled me to the point I didn’t even try not to cry.
I stood back, watching as the nurse handed my daughter to Meghan. God, I was full-on crying now, probably looking like someone who couldn’t keep his shit together, but hell, I didn’t care. I didn’t care what anyone said.
I was a fucking father, and this day, as well as when Meghan had said “I do,” were the two happiest moments of my life.
Meghan glanced over at me and smiled, and the world was right, perfect, and I was never letting go.
I went up to the woman I loved, my wife, and the mother of my child. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I was careful, knowing she was sore. God, she’d done so well, been so strong. It had taken Meghan twenty-three hours of labor before our baby girl was born. I was scared, wanted to take the pain away, take her fucking place, but shit, I was so damn proud of her.
“You’re a damn rock star, baby,” I said softly and leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the mouth. Our daughter made the cutest little sound, and I didn’t stop myself from smiling. “Your mom’s flight should be landing in the next couple of hours, and my dad is driving down now.”
Meghan nodded and smiled, resting back on the bed more.
“But if you’re not up for anyone I’ll tell them to just wait.”
She shook her head. “No. It’ll be nice having them here.”
Once Meghan and I had decided being together was what we wanted—needed—we hadn’t hesitated in letting our folks know. At first there had been a little hesitation on their part, maybe even disapproval, but as time went on they had no choice but to accept what was going on.
There was no way I was letting Meghan go.
But their acceptance didn’t take long, and they’d given us the support we asked for, had been there at the wedding, and had been a constant positive influence in our lives and in our choices.
“Hold her,” Meghan said gently, and I didn’t lie in the fact I was scared as hell.
“I’m all thumbs, baby,” I said, panic kicking in. “I don’t want to hold her wrong.”
Meghan chuckled. “You won’t. You’ll do great.” She shifted slightly, and before I knew it I was holding my daughter. The baby tried opening her little eyes, but she had this cream in them, and it looked hard for her to do the act. “Can you get this shit out of her eyes?” I said before I realized I probably could have said it softer.