Epilogue One
Crystal
“I think this might be it,” I say, getting up in the middle of the night two months after we moved in. I’m officially three days past my due date and impatient to meet my little one.
“That’s what you’ve said for the past week,” Gabe says quietly from beside me. He turns over. “It’s three a.m.”
“I know, but it feels different.” I look at him as I roll out of bed. “We should have sex again to get things going.”
“No,” he says loudly, “I’m pretty sure I have no sperm left.” I laugh at him. He might be right, though. We had sex five times today, twice before he left for work, twice when he got home, and once before we went to bed, three yesterday, and three the day before.
“No, Gabe,” I huff out, going to the bathroom, “I’m telling you, I feel it in my back,” I say and then pain rips through me, causing me to double over and scream.
Gabe flies out of bed to me. “Breathe,” he says as I glare up at him. “Shit, this is it.”
“I told you it was different,” I hiss, panting. “I have to take a shower. Help me.”
“You can’t take a shower. You’re having contractions. We have to get to the hospital,” he tells me.
“But we had sex,” I say right before another sharp pain hits me, and I pant through it with him counting. “I’m full of your sperm.”
“Doll face,” he says, “with the stuff that is going to be coming out of you, the least of your worries should be the sperm.” I glare at him. “Now if you don’t get your ass in the fucking truck, I’m going to call Nanny and Gram.”
I gasp. Nanny and my mom came to town two days ago and are staying with Gram till the baby is born, and then they will come and help us. “You wouldn’t dare.” My stomach tenses as another contraction bears down on me and tears form in my eyes. “Oh my god.”
“Sit down on the bed. I need to start timing the contractions.” He runs to pull on his pants and a t-shirt while grabbing me a dress because nothing fucking fits me. “Where the fuck are the keys?” He runs around searching for the keys that are in his hand.When I moan as another one comes, I ask, “Can we go please?” He holds my hand, walking down the stairs with me, helping me in the car and buckling me in. The pain is okay for now, but the minute he starts driving, it gets so much worse.
“Holy shit, this hurts,” I say as another one hits me.
“Fuck, they are like three minutes apart,” he says and starts speeding. “Breathe.”
“What the fuck does it look like I’m do—” I stop and then look down as water fills the front seat. I look up at him. “My water just broke,” I say as the pain rips through me.
“We are there in three minutes,” he says, the twenty-five-minute ride taking only seventeen minutes. He pulls up to the emergency room door. Parking the truck, he rushes around while another contraction hits. This time, it causes me to scream as I hold the dashboard. He comes running with a wheelchair and a nurse. “I’m here,” he says, panting. I look at him and see that my calm, cool man is the opposite of calm and cool. His face is now pale, and his eyes wild. “Are you okay?” he asks while I get out of the truck and into the chair.
“Sir, you can’t leave your vehicle here,” the nurse yells after him.
“I got it.” I hear Walker yell from behind us, seeing Hailey run to my side.
“I’m here,” she says as I burst out crying. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers to me.
“I’m so scared,” I whisper back to her. “If anything happens to me …”
“Not this again,” she starts. “No more fucking emergency birthing videos for you.” She presses the button for the elevator, looking at Gabe. “Why the fuck did you bring them home?”
“Me?” he says. “She took them from the fucking office.” I did. I think back to when he came home and saw me in a puddle of tears in the middle of the living room crying because I knew there was no way to go through that pain without dying.
“Holy shit,” I hiss, my stomach getting so tight I swear it’s going to pop. “Aaahhhhhh.”
“Fuck.” I hear Gabe say, the doors opening and a nurse meeting us there.
“You must be the Walkers. I’m Jackie, and I’m going to be with you guys tonight.”
“It’s like she’s our waitress,” I whisper to Hailey who just smiles.
“Now, follow me.” She smiles at me. “And let’s get you hooked up to a monitor.” They wheel me into a room where Hailey helps me take off my dress and then gasps at the veins in my boobs as I get into a hospital gown.
“It’s like I’m a weird experiment gone wrong,” I tell her. “It’s like neon blue.”
“You’re beautiful,” she says as I groan out with another contraction. When the nurse starts hooking me up to the machine, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat fills the room.
“So this machine is going to monitor the heart rate, and then over here”—she points at the other part of the machine—“that measures your contractions.” And right then, a contraction starts.
“Breathe,” Gabe says from the other side of me, watching the monitor the whole time.
“Really?” I say between clenched teeth. “Thank god, you’re here to tell me that I need to breathe while a human is trying to tear through me.”
“Okay,” he says while the nurse tells me to spread my legs so she can check me. “Looks like you’re seven centimeters.”
“I want drugs,” I say, right before I close my legs and start the heee, heee, hooo, hooo.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Jackie tells me.
“No,” I say, looking at her and then Gabe. “Override her. You’re a doctor, and she’s a nurse. Tell her she’s wrong.”
“Doll face.” He leans down kissing me.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, the tears coming now. “No, no, no, I can’t do this without drugs.”
“Yes, you can,” he tells me. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
For the next hour, the contractions come fast and hard, so hard, I’m crying out in pain. Gabe looks like he’s about to throw a shit fit with the nurse. “Time to see what’s going on down there,” Jackie says. “Perfect,” she says, getting up and going to the phone. “Dr. Sprung, it’s time,” she says, and then springs into action, turning the light on in the crib. She unfolds the blankets as Dr. Sprung comes in.
“I heard someone is ready to meet their parents?” he says all chipper and shit, and I swear I want to kick him in the balls.
“I need drugs,” I say, panting, the sweat dripping from my forehead. I’m so tired. I’m so, so tired; it feels like I just ran a fucking marathon without resting.
“Doll face,” Gabe says, grabbing my hand while Jackie puts my feet up in the stirrups. “We are going to meet our baby.”
Dr. Sprung puts on his gloves, sitting on the stool, and scoots over to me. “I can see the baby’s head, so when you have your next contraction, I need you to bear down and push,” he says, looking at the monitor. “Another one is coming so get ready. And push.”
Gabe, Jackie, and Hailey all count to ten while I bear down and push with everything I have. “Okay, now breathe. That was good,” he says, and for the next forty-five minutes, I push and push and push.
“It’s too much,” I cry, my body limp. “I can’t do it anymore,” I say, my eyes closing. “I just ... it hurts so much,” I sob.
“The baby’s heart rate is dropping,” Jackie says, and my eyes spring open. “Dr. Sprung.”
Gabe bends down next to me, pushing my sweaty hair away from my face and looking in my eyes. “Doll face, I know you’re tired,” he says, his thumb catching the tear running down my face. “You’ve done so good.” He kisses my nose. “So fucking good, but you need to try one more time.”
I sob. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
I don’t hear what is going on around me until I hear Dr. Sprung. “We need to get the baby out.” He looks at me. “Crystal, it
’s important we get the baby out.”
“Gabe.” I look at him.
“You can do this. You are so strong.”
“Push,” Dr. Sprung says. “Keep pushing, keep pushing,” he says, and I push with everything I have left. “Okay, stop pushing, the head is out,” he says while Gabe looks down and tears are flowing down his face. “Okay, one more big push. Go, go, go, go.”
I push so hard, I yell out while I push and then the most beautiful thing in the world is happening when the doctor places my baby on my chest and the tears rip through me. “Oh my god, my baby,” I say, grabbing the baby on my chest. Gabe’s hands cover mine, and the only thing I can say is, “My baby.” I laugh and cry all at the same time, the baby’s wails filling the room.
“Congratulations, you have a daughter,” Dr. Sprung says, and just like that, my dreams come true. The dreams that haunted me ever since I got here have come true.
I look up at Gabe, who kisses me. “I love you.”
“We have a daughter.” I look at Hailey who has her hand over her mouth and cries softly. “I have a daughter.” Words that I never thought I would say.
I look down at my daughter, her eyes blinking while she quietly looks around. “Hey, beautiful, it’s me, Mommy,” I say, smiling. The tiredness gone, the pain all worth this moment right here. With my daughter lying on my chest, and the man who I would move mountains for by my side, I have my love story. This is my love story. It may not be conventional, it may not be the way I would have planned it, but it is the right one for me.
We met unexpectedly, the universe already aligning our stars, and no matter what we did, it was always going to be us. No matter what we did, it was always our unexpected that turned into love.
Epilogue Two
Gabe
Four Years Later.
“Daddy, Daddy, look, a seashell,” Savannah yells, running to pick up the shell she just spotted. Her blond curls blow in the wind when she finds it and turns to wave at her mother who sits with her coffee in her hand. We are taking our daily walk on the beach while Crystal sits on the sand, watching us. She never did come back to work. Nope, not my wife. She stayed home and made every single moment count. I don’t even think that Savannah has cried more than ten tears since she was born. Thinking about it makes me smile.
“Make sure you don’t get your feet wet,” I tell her when she places the seashell in my hand.
“I won’t, Daddy,” she says, running off when I look back and seeing Crystal now smiling at us as she leans her arms back, her big pregnant stomach showing. We are having another miracle baby in a month, a boy this time, and I can’t fucking wait.
Best thing to happen to me was meeting Crystal and having my daughter, but I have to say the best day of my life, was when I stood at that altar and watched her walk down the aisle to me. Her eyes brimming with tears as I held our daughter in my arms. We vowed to love each other in good times and bad times, and she vowed not to kill me. When I slipped that wedding band on her finger, my life just felt so fucking complete, I can’t explain it. It was a sense of peace, a sense of belonging, a sense that the world was right.
“Daddy,” Savannah says, coming back to me, “can we go walk?” She puts her small hand in mine while the other small hand tries to push the hair away from her face. “Not a long walk,” she says, looking up at me and smiling.
“Only for a little walk. Okay.” I lean down and kiss her nose. “We don’t want to leave Mommy too long, okay?” I tell her as she nods her head. “Wave at Mommy,” I tell her as she turns around and waves at Crystal, who’s watching our every move. We turn and start walking down the beach, and it’s at that exact moment I stop and think back to that day I had this vivid dream of walking on the beach with a little girl looking back at someone sitting watching us. All along, it was there; all along, she was the woman in my dreams. “Let’s go, doll face,” I tell her as she shakes her head.
“I’m not doll face. Mommy is doll face,” she says while we walk down the beach. “I’m angel face.”
So, on that warm sunny day on that beach, two dreams came together unexpectedly!
The End of my unexpected love story, or just the beginning!
Stay tuned for Samantha and Blake’s Story
Broken Love Story
Samantha
I had the perfect life; a husband who loved me, and two kids who were my world.
Until someone else answered his phone and my perfect life shattered.
When he died, I was left with answers he couldn't give me and a box full of lies.
He left me broken.
Blake
I fell in love when I was fifteen, knowing she was the one.
For five years, she was my everything—my every breath, every heartbeat, every thought.
She made me promise to move on, promise to find love again, but I broke those promises because I can't move on.
Two broken souls brought together by tragedy and heartbreak.
Can a broken love story be fixed?
Copyright © 2018 Natasha Madison. E-Book and Print Edition
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Michael, may you find someone who loves all of you.
Blake
Blake
We pull up to Hailey’s house before I even have a chance to make a plan. I jump out of the truck, open the passenger door, and unbuckle her, then help her get out.
Crystal follows us as we walk up the step to her house, their house. Eric and Hailey’s house.
I walk in and take in the house. You know right away Eric is home. He was an engineer for aircrafts and was always on the road. But when he was home, you knew right away because his things would be all over the house. A tossed sweater here, an empty mug by the couch. And now is no different. His sweater is tossed over the couch. Hailey walks over to the mug left beside the couch and picks it up.
“He just got home last night,” she whispers at us, looking up. “Maybe if he didn’t come back, he would still be here. Maybe …” She trails off in a whisper. Crystal looks at me, telling me silently to get rid of anything that shouldn’t be out of place. I know what she means by just a look and walk to the kitchen to place his mug in the sink. His laundry is draped over one of the chairs.
Crystal takes her upstairs while I try to take things down that will remind her of Eric, but I know it’s all for nothing; nothing will make her forget. I’m leaning against the counter with my head hanging down when the front door opens and my mother and father walk in.
“Where is she?” my mother asks Crystal, who has just walked back down the stairs. Her jacket is tossed over the couch, right next to Eric’s sweater.
“She is sleeping or resting,” Crystal answers her quietly. “I don’t even know anymore.” I watch her walk into the kitchen and go to the cabinet that holds the whiskey. She comes to the counter, reaching for a glass, and takes a couple of shots. My mother walks into the kitchen, placing the brown fucking bag on the coun
ter.
“You want one?” she asks me, and I just nod my head. I don’t want just one shot; I want the fucking bottle. She pours three fingers into the glass, and I pick it up and swallow it in one shot, feeling the burning all the way down.
“How the fuck did this happen?” Crystal asks the question everyone is wondering. How in the fuck did this happen to us again? “I’m going to go up and lie with her in case she wakes up in a panic.”
I nod my head as she walks out of the room. “There is so much that needs to be done,” my father says from the kitchen table as I pour another shot. “Arrangements that need to be …”
He stops talking, or I stop listening. I think it’s a mixture of both when I pour myself another drink; this time, it goes down even smoother than before. “I think I’m going to go for a drive,” I say to them, and they nod. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
I grab my keys, start the truck, and pull away from the house. While I’m driving, my mind swirls all over the place as I pass the black-iron gate, turning left and then taking the second right. I stop as the sun starts to go down, the sky almost pink. I walk through the grass, making my way to the small little tombstone.
Francesca Marie Bianchi
Beloved Daughter and Sister
June 5, 1980 – July 5, 1999
“Hey, Frankie,” I say. Sitting in front of her tombstone, I feel a peace settle in me. “How you doing today?”
When I first set eyes on Frankie on the first day of high school, my heart stopped. Her long brown hair flowed in the wind. Honest to God, it was like that moment in The Wonder Years when he meets Winnie. I just knew, knew in my heart, she was the one. I was fifteen when we had homeroom together, and I thought that it was definitely a sign. Then we were on the same debate team, and what started as us being study partners turned into so much more.
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