Page 138 of Made for Wilde

I look up to see my father watching us. His own eyes shine with unshed tears. The joy on his face erases the memory of his anger, his disappointment, his ultimatum all those months ago.

In this moment, we’re just family. Flawed, complicated, but bound together by this tiny miracle in my arms.

“Hi, Elaine,” I whisper to my daughter as she quiets against my skin. Her cries soften to whimpers. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

The hospital room is quiet except for the soft beeping of monitors and Elaine’s occasional newborn snuffles against my chest.

I can’t stop staring at her. The perfect bow of her lips, the tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows when she frowns, the wispy dark hair that already reminds me of Koda. She’s barely six hours old, but I feel like I’ve known her my entire life.

My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache and exhaustion pulls at every cell. But I’ve never felt more awake, more alive, more present than I do right now, holding this tiny human we created.

Koda sits on the edge of the bed beside us. His massive frame makes the hospital furniture look comically small. His eyes haven’t left Elaine since the nurses cleaned her up and returned her to us.

I’ve seen this man take down dangerous criminals without breaking a sweat, but the seven-pound bundle in my arms has completely undone him.

“She has your nose,” he says. His voice is hushed with reverence as he traces one finger along our daughter’s profile.

“But your hair.” I smile up at him and take in the wonder on his face. “Poor kid.”

Koda’s laugh is soft. His eyes never leave Elaine.

“She’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He leans down to press his lips against my forehead. “Thank you.”

A soft knock at the door interrupts the moment.

Dana enters first with a massive bouquet of pink roses in one arm and a teddy bear almost as big as Elaine in the other. My father follows. His eyes immediately find his granddaughter nestled against my chest.

“There she is,” Dana says. She sets down her gifts and approaches the bed. “The little lady who decided to make her debut during graduation.”

“She has her mother’s sense of timing,” Dad says. His voice is gruff with emotion.

The look on his face as he gazes at Elaine makes my throat tighten. Nine months ago, he’d walked away from me in that school hallway and forced me to choose between him and Koda. Now he stands beside Koda at my hospital bed, the past forgiven if not forgotten.

“Want to hold her?” I ask and carefully shift Elaine in my arms.

Dad nods. He suddenly looks nervous, this man who built our home with his bare hands, who raised me alone after Mom died, who faced down every challenge life threw at him.

He sits in the chair beside the bed and I place Elaine in his arms. I watch as his weathered hands cradle her with infinite gentleness.

“Hi there, little one,” he whispers. “I’m your grandpa.”

The word ‘grandpa’ seems to hit him all at once. His eyes fill with tears that he doesn’t try to hide.

“She looks like you did,” he says and looks up at me. “Same chin. Same little frown.”

“Let me see this miracle baby,” Dana says and perches on the arm of Dad’s chair. Her perfectly manicured finger traces Elaine’s cheek. “Absolutely gorgeous. Those lips are all Palmer, but that scowl is pure Wilde.”

Koda grunts and pretends offense, but his eyes never leave his daughter.

The naked adoration on his face makes my heart swell.

“Who would have thought,” Dana continues. Her voice is teasing but fond. “That the big bad wolf would turn into a teddy bear the minute he saw his daughter?”

Koda’s ears redden slightly, but he doesn’t deny it.

“She’s my heart outside my body now,” he says simply. The raw honesty in his voice silences even Dana’s teasing.

Dad looks up at Koda and something shifts in his expression. He hands Elaine carefully to Dana before standing and gesturing toward the door.