Page 135 of The Merger

Hey, it’s Daddy. We’re off to the hospital to meet you. You must be a night owl like me.

I promise to be the best dad I can be, kiddo. I thought my life was complete when your mom spilled a matcha latte (iced, of course) all over me in Uncle Tate’s office. But then she told me about you.

You’ve already changed my life and you aren’t even here yet. I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. You have my word.

I love you. More than you’ll ever know.

Dad

Epilogue

Carys

“How are you doing?”

I look at the anesthesiologist and smile as best as I can. Whatever they’ve given me for the C-section has made my body shiver. I’m not cold, but I can’t stop it.

Gannon holds my hands in his, crouching forward so his face is close to mine.

“You’re doing great,” he whispers in his calm, steady way. “I’m so damn proud of you.”

“I’m scared.”

His eyes fill with tears and I know this is killing him. He’s usually in charge, protecting me from anything uncomfortable or painful.

But he can’t help me now.

After thirty hours of labor, the doctor decided a C-section was the safest route to deliver our baby. I knew it was a possibility before we arrived at the hospital because of the size of the baby, and I’d made peace with it. But with my stretched emotions and exhaustion, the idea of undergoing surgery to have our baby made me sob.

“Don’t be scared,” Gannon says softly as doctors and nurses scurry around the room. “I’m here. I got you.”

“You are many things, Mr. Brewer. But a surgeon you are not.”

He gives me a sweet smile. “I’ve never tried. I might be good at it.”

“Let’s not try today.”

He squeezes my hand.

“Okay, Mrs. Brewer. Are you feeling okay?” Dr. Manning asks.

“Excited. Scared.”

“I understand. We’re about to begin. You won’t feel anything, but some patients say they feel like they’re being unzipped. If you feel that, it’s normal. Understand?”

I nod, blinking through my tears. “I understand.”

“All right. Let’s make this a birth day.”

I can barely swallow as I look at Gannon.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he says.

My lower half moves. Although I can’t feel it, I can sense it.

“Thank you for this,” he says, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Watching you go through this is unbelievable. To think you’d endure this so we can grow our family is incredible.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’m in awe of you.”

“I love you,” I say, hiccupping a breath.