Page 137 of Through the Storm

They place the baby on my chest, warm and slippery and impossibly small. My hands hover for a second, afraid to touch.

Ben’s hand guides mine gently. “It’s okay.”

I rest my palm against the baby’s back and something in me cracks wide open.

“Hi,” I whisper. “Hi, baby.”

The world feels quiet again. Soft. Like everything loud has finally passed.

Ben presses his cheek to my temple. I can feel him crying now, silent and unguarded.

“You did it,” he murmurs.

I turn my head slightly, just enough to look at him.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For coming. And for staying.”

He shakes his head, voice thick. “There was nowhere else I wanted to be.”

I swallow, emotions crashing over me all at once—fear, relief, love, regret.

“I was so afraid to need you,” I admit.

He kisses my hair. “I don’t mind being needed.”

The baby squirms against my chest, letting out a tiny noise.

Ben laughs quietly through his tears. “I think he knows my voice.”

My heart squeezes painfully.

“I think he’s missed you. Can you stay a little longer?” I ask softly.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I know he’s not.

The baby shifts against my chest again, making a tiny, startled sound. I laugh weakly through my tears and brush my thumb over his head.

“Oh,” I whisper, blinking hard. “Ben.”

He leans closer immediately. “What?”

I stare down at the baby again, dazed.

“He’s blond,” I whisper.

Ben huffs a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “I know. He’s very cute.”

“No,” I say, more certain now. “Like Winters blond. Look, it’s even a little wavy too.”

That gets his attention.

I’ve seen pictures of Ben as a baby. And my son looks exactly likehim.

My throat tightens. I’ve spent nine months wishing for this, but I never let myself believe I’d be so lucky.

I glance up at Ben, my voice shaking in a way I haven’t let it in months.