“From the moment I met you, I knew you were a good girl,” Conrad says. “And we knew that our boy was crazy about you. All a parent can ever really hope for is that their child finds love and happiness, and Hudson found that with you.”
“I’m so sorry for lying to you both,” I say.
“Yes,” Hudson says. “We want to make it clear, we accept full responsibility for our actions, and we’re deeply remorseful.”
“Thank you,” Helena says. “We appreciate that.”
“Thank you for accepting … us.” I place my hand on my stomach.
“Of course,” Conrad says.
“We brought you something.” Helena reaches for the blue Tiffany bag, handing it over. “I’m hoping the baby doesn’t already have one of these.”
I smile, silently assuring her the baby does not, in fact, have a single thing from Tiffany & Co.
Digging past white tissue paper, I pull out a small box containing a silver rattle.
“Thank you,” I say, gently wrapping my arms around her. “I love it.”
“Just a small keepsake,” she says as I pull away. “Hudson had one. A gift from my mother-in-law. You’ll get to meet her next month at my niece’s wedding in Portland. You’ll be joining us, won’t you? As Hudson’s plus one?”
I glance at Hudson, vaguely recalling when we’d signed the original agreement and he mentioned that I’d be accompanying him to a slew of weddings and family gatherings over the course of the summer. But that was then. And he’s yet to ask me as his date … officially.
“Will you join me as my plus one for cousin Jennifer’s wedding next month?” he asks, practically reading my mind.
“I’d love to,” I say.
“Wonderful.” Helena claps her hands together before standing. “We won’t keep you. We just wanted to stop by and give you your gift and welcome you back to the family with open arms.”
“Thank you.” I follow them to the door with Hudson behind me, his hand on the small of my back. “We’ll see you next month!”
She blows a kiss on the tips of her fingers before waving goodbye to us and disappearing into the hallway behind Conrad.
The second they’re gone, I exhale.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hudson says, drawing me in.
I place my hands on his chest, staring up into his deep blues. I’d live in them if I could, I love them so.
“So what now?” I ask.
His lips curl into a devilish grin and his hands slide down my sides, lifting me and carrying me back to his room.
Burying my face in his neck, I throw my arms around his corded-steel shoulders and breathe him in.
I love him.
So hard.
Epilogue
Hudson
* * *
Six months later…
* * *
Mari cradles Grey Hudson Sheffield in her arms. All seven pounds and eight ounces of him are swaddled in a white muslin blanket covered in baby giraffes, and he’s fast asleep, out cold with a full belly. She wears exhaustion like a rock star, exuberant and glowing despite a twenty-two-hour labor and two hours of pushing.
Sitting beside her, I can’t take my eyes off these two beautiful, tired souls.
“I can’t stop looking at him,” she says, her voice a gentle breeze. “Isn’t he perfect?”
“Yeah.” I place my hand over hers. “He really is.”
Alec is seated on the other side of the hospital bed, watching his newborn son sleep. He flew to Nebraska from Hong Kong a couple of weeks ago in anticipation of the birth, but Mari ended up going a week past her due date.
The three of us spent a lot of time catching up, talking about our hopes and dreams for the little guy.
I have to hand it to Alec. He completely proved me wrong about him. He’s really handling this situation better than I thought he would, and he’s going to start taking fewer international jobs so he can be around more.
Mari’s eyes flutter. She’s struggling to stay awake.
My phone lights up with a text from Mari’s friend Isabelle asking how everyone’s doing before letting us know she’s going back to bed. She FaceTime’d in for the birth, and she plans to visit as soon as the fanfare dies down and Mari is up for a house guest.
“We should let you both rest,” I say, scooping Grey from her arms and placing him in the bassinette.
Mari doesn’t fight it, she simply nods and lets her cheek fall to the pillow.
Alec and I sneak out of the room, heading toward the hospital cafeteria. We’re both in dire need of a good night’s rest, but neither of us want to leave those two just yet.
“Hey, man,” Alec says, stopping me halfway down the hall.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” he says, eyes earnest. “Thank you for taking care of them these last several months when I was gone. And thank you for accepting Grey the way you have. I can only hope to be half the man you are someday.”
“Give yourself more credit.” I lift my hand to his back, squeezing his shoulders. “You’ve done well. And we’re in this together. For life.”
“One big, happy family.” Alec chuckles and we turn the corner.
“The way it’s always been.”
Lying awake, I stare at the ceiling. Grey’s been home two weeks now, and his sleeping schedule is still pretty erratic. Alec left for a new gig in San Francisco yesterday, and Mari and I are still working out some kind of nighttime schedule that works for us both.
Living in Orchard Hill full time now has been quite the adjustment. Some nights it’s too quiet and isolated. Other nights it’s pure bliss and peaceful.
Grey’s tiny cry plays over the intercom and Mari instantly shuffles awake, scrambling to get out of bed.
Placing my arm across her, I say, “I’ll get it this time.”
“You sure?” she mutters, half asleep.
“Yeah. Go back to sleep.” Climbing out of bed, I trek into the nursery next door, scooping him out of his crib and lying him on the changing table. He’s wet. And probably hungry.
A small envelope rests at the center of the changing pad, with my name scribbled across it in Mari’s handwriting. Tucking it in the waistband of my sweats, I change little Grey before carrying him to the kitchen to fix a bottle.
Several minutes later, we’re situated in the rocking chair in the living room, a small Tiffany lamp splashing gentle stained glass colors on the wall behind us.
Pulling out the letter, I unfold the linen paper and give it a read.
* * *
Dear Mr. Rutherford,
* * *
I humbly request that you accept this as my pledge to love you now and forever, until the end of time. I have no intentions of ever stepping down from my position as the woman who’s insanely and hopelessly wild about you. I’ll do my best to ensure this is a smooth transition for our relationship, but I cannot promise to exercise self-restraint at all times in your presence because, truth be told, I find it impossible to keep my hands off you most of the time.