Epilogue

Emma~

“I hate you,” I say through gritted teeth as the contraction takes full control over my body.

“And I love you.” Orion smiles down at me while holding onto my hand that is grasping his like a vice.

“Don’t say nice things to me when I’m being mean to you.” I start to speak normally but end up screaming the words at him.

The pain is far worse than anything I’ve experienced, and I’ve got a lot to refer back to over this last year. The labor never seems to be getting closer to the end, though the midwife keeps assuring me that all is okay.

“I’ll say nice things to you until the day that I die, Little One.” Orion promises in his honey-like voice, which helps to calm down my growing nerves at what is to come.

“I’m not little, I’m huge,” I complain because I am.

The babe inside of my belly is a chunker, and maybe I took it too literally these past nine months when claiming to be eating for two. Next time I’ll stick to my normal diet.

Actually, strike that. There won’t be a next time. Never again will I go through something like this, I don’t care if there’s a child on the other side of it.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here.” Orion strokes my hair as the next contraction starts up, and I wonder if the rest of the hospital suspects that I’m being murdered up here.

I wouldn’t put it past the little thing; it’s taking forever to come out.

“Almost there, Emma. You’re at ten centimeters now, so I’ll need you to push.” The midwife calls up to me, and if I wasn’t already panicked, I am now.

“Orion, no, I’m scared. You do it.” I squeeze my eyes closed and feel the pressure building up inside of me, suggesting that I push.

“I would if I could, Princess. I hate seeing you like this.” He strokes my hair some more, and I try to control my breathing.

“Push, Emma.” The midwife commands, and it’s as if my body listens without my control.

Pain. Intense excruciating pain fills my world for the next ten minutes—until my eyes fall upon the most perfect thing.

Our baby, our little bundle of joy is here, and she’s a girl.

“I’m so proud of you; she’s perfect.” Orion coos in my ear, but I can barely hear him.

The world has just shifted on its axis, and rather than the sun, it’s now revolving around this little gift of life.

Her eyes only open partially, but when they do, it’s like they’re made up of tiny sapphires. She takes after her father in both coloring and hair, and I simply can’t believe we were able to make something as flawless as this.

“What are we going to call her, Em?”

“Rosa, just like my mother.”