by Kira Blakely
Before he steps out the door again, he gives me one last sad look and nods to himself. “I know you did what you had to do,” he tells me. “And that’s what I’m doing, too.”
Chapter 40
Lucas
Over the next several weeks, life unravels and then ravels up again. Christmas Day is dark in the Gray cabin. Both Astrid and Sofia are removed from the premises by the Fallaway Peak Police Department. When Sofia is in handcuffs, being led to the police cruiser, I rush after her and stop the officers helping lower her head into the cruiser.
“Wait, wait.” They pause just long enough for me to touch her cheek, to coil one of her gold curls around my fingertip. “Marry me,” I tell her, breathless and certain that it’s all I need to say. “I’ll wait. Marry me. Be my fiancée.”
A smile breaks out across Sofia’s face, even though she’s currently in handcuffs, being lowered into a police cruiser. “I will,” she promises. “I will marry you.”
I press my warm lips to her cold ones, and the police allow us one more kindness. For several seconds, we’re able to forget the world around us and spread our own body heat in the frosty air. I start to wrap my arms around her, like I have no idea where we are anymore, and then the policemen clear their throats.
“All right, all right, you two,” they mutter, lowering her down into the patrol car and closing the door. It locks as soon as it shuts. “That’s enough.”
“I’m going to bail you out, so you can come home,” I tell her through the glass of the police cruiser window. “I don’t care how much it is. I’ll pay it. You’re coming home to me, baby.”
Sofia offers up a weak smile and places her hand to the glass, her fingertip making soft, peach-colored crescents on the glass. I place my hand over hers, and I don’t feel quite as lost. Maybe everything is going to be OK.
As the cruisers depart for the police station, where my ex-wife and my fiancée will both be booked, James slings an arm around my shoulders, and both Madison and Charlie burrow into my sides. At least I still have them.
“Come on, guys,” James suggests, his tone low and soft with compassion. “Let’s go open up all of Sofia’s presents.”
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Sofia clutches my hand tightly in the seat next to mine, and across the aisle from us, Madison and Charlie pile against the window and ooh and ahh at the expansive greenery and lush hillside. I never considered Ohio to be a place that I’d go out of my way to see, but now that I’m here, I understand the charm. The town of Marieta sprawled beneath us reminds me quite a bit of Fallaway Peak.
But it’s not as sweet, simply because it’s the site of Sofia’s trial.
After everything with Astrid, it’d be a lie to say that I’m not overprotective of my fiancée, who is now five months pregnant and looks like she’s trying to smuggle a half-deflated ball under her shirt everywhere she goes. I hold her hand a touch too tightly as we navigate our way to the courthouse, but she’ll forgive me. I had to work harder for her than I’ve ever worked for a woman in my life.
After paying Sofia’s bail and having her returned to the cabin in time for New Year’s, there were still a lot of fish to fry. I had to rifle through the myriad lawyers that Graytech keeps on retainer and find the one best-suited to Sofia’s case. Once that was finished, we were ready to proceed to trial in Ohio. I knew to expect all of this. It was practically my plan, when I originally said to Sofia that we wouldn’t be able to hide forever. We were going to have to face her crimes and clear her name.
What would she have done without me and I without her? I have no idea. There’s this little part of me that is sure it’s meant to be—but I don’t believe in that kind of stuff.
Though I still swear that I saw Sofia somewhere before we met. Her face is so familiar to me, and it always has been—but maybe that’s just how soulmates feel about each other.
We pile into the taxi from the airport and head to our hotel, which is close to the courthouse. I wonder if Sofia is ready for everything.
I can’t stand the thought of her being sentenced. It makes my stomach roll and a sweat spring up on my brow. I can’t let anyone take Sofia behind bars while she’s pregnant with my second daughter. I can’t. It grinds against every cell in my body.
“I’ll be fine,” Sofia promises, patting my hand the night before the trial. My eyes turn over her beautiful face. She’s so strong and brave. She has no idea if everything will be fine or not, but she tells me that it will. She tells me so I don’t worry. This is the woman I’ve fallen in love with. Not the tumble of blond curls and the catlike gray eyes. Not even the woman who is carrying my child. I’ve fallen in love with the woman who will do whatever she can to help someone else, even if it means breaking the law.
* * *
The courtroom is quiet and stern on the inside. No one sitting in these hard wooden pews utters a word.
Sofia sits with the Graytech lawyer at the front of the room, and when the trial begins, I’m on pins and needles. I can’t stop looking at her and silently begging for the powers that be to protect her, even though I’ve never been a terribly religious man. I’ll become one right now if it will save Sofia’s ass from the flames.
During the trial, we’re all given the opportunity to finally meet the real Maggie Marshall, when she comes up to testify. Her hair is much longer than Sofia’s, but it’s the exact same springy golden set of curls. She keeps hers knotted up into a more serious-looking braid, and unlike Sofia’s dainty, feminine style, Maggie dresses casually in slacks and nice sweaters for the trial. Everything Sofia has ever said about Maggie is reflected in the way she carries herself.
She does look like the logical, practical twin, though Sofia is always quick to point out that Maggie is younger—by eight seconds.
I also must ascend to testify, and I inform everyone of what a kind soul Sofia has. I tell them that the last place anyone on this planet should want Sofia Marshall is jail. I also tell them that I’m in love with her, and she’s going to be my wife, whether she’s behind bars or not. Finally, I tell them that I already repaid her debt to Platinum Priority.
Even Agent Callahan seemed noncommittal about the idea of putting Sofia into actual prison. All he could say was, “Life is already tough enough as it is, isn’t it?”
The jury files into the courtroom after hearing everyone speak and one woman saunters over to the microphone and hunches over it. “We, the people of the jury, find Sofia Marshall guilty of the crime of third degree fraud. The jury would like to recommend a sentence of time served.”
The judge nods, and is somber as he reads the sentence. “After careful consideration of all the aspects of this case, including the repayment of the amount owing to Priority Platinum, the sensitive situation which led to this particular instance of fraud, and the jury’s recommendation, I allow the sentence of time served in the amount of thirty-six months, and sentence Miss Marshall to a month of community service.”
Relief shudders through me. It’s a light sentence, kind really. Sofia turns and flings out a hand, eyes dewy with unshed tears. I catch it and squeeze. Everything’s going to be all right.
Chapter 41
Sofia
Another Four Months Later
I think I’ve been having contractions all day, but everybody says it’s nothing. It’s a week early, and I’ve already been sent home from the hospital twice with Braxton Hicks contractions, so no one wants to listen to me whimper and moan anymore. But I swear to God that I’m having contractions.
“I’m sure you are, honey,” Lucas says to me, taking my hand in his and kissing my knuckles. He has this infuriating way of making me feel better when I want him to wallow with me in misery. I don’t want to feel better, and I definitely don’t want him making me feel that way. He’s the whole reason I’m in this mess. “You’re having Braxton Hicks contractions, baby.”
“Stop with the honey and the baby!” I snap. I’m in no mood. I’m in labor. “I think you should be drivin
g me to the hospital right now.”
Lucas gives me a dubious look, but I return it with a scathing glare of my own.
“Now,” I add, narrowing my eyes at him.
Lucas laughs and goes to grab the hospital bag. “All right, all right, all right,” he says, scooping it up and around his shoulder. “Let me grab the kids—again—and we’ll get going. Are you sure this time?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
We arrive at the hospital, and I’m wheeled back to some room where they want to ask me questions. Questions? I can barely see straight, I’m in so much pain. All I want to do is roll around on the floor and moan like a cow.
“Have you had any water to drink?” the nurse wants to know. Water? Who cares!
“Um, yes, I drank some water today,” I say as another contraction grips me. My entire body fights to open up. I squeeze Lucas’s hand so hard that the knuckles pop and he winces, but he doesn’t let me go. “I drank some water in the morning, but I don’t think I’ve had any since. Why? Is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not a bad thing, Miss Marshall, it’s just that sometimes dehydration can cause cramping that feels like a contraction.”
“You cannot tell me that these aren’t contractions!” I gasp for breath around each successive series of the things. “These are contractions!”
“We’re going to give you some water, and it will do one of two things,” the nurse informs me, calmly ticking off boxes on her computer screen. God, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with her right now, and to be standing there, bored, in my non-slip shoes and my scrubs. “It will either stop your contractions, or it will speed them up. Either way, we should see a change once we get some water into your system, so let’s give it a try.”
I drink three cups of water, and they check my cervix for dilation.
“One centimeter,” the nurse cheerfully informs me, removing her plastic gloves.
“One centimeter?” I wail, slick with sweat. “That can’t be right! How—how big is one centimeter? It sounds so small!”
“One centimeter is about the size of a penny,” she answers. “Your cervix has dilated one, but we need it to dilate ten. About the size of a bagel.”
“A BAGEL?”
“It’s OK, sweetie,” Lucas promises me, massaging my shoulder. I hate that gentle tone he’s using. Like I’m crazy. “We’ll go ahead and check out. We’ll come back if the contractions increase. Thank you so much for your time.”
“Of course, Mr. Gray. Now, checking you out is going to take a few minutes, so bear with me while I verify everything.”
The nurse asks Lucas a question, and he leans closer to look at her chart, nodding and furrowing his brow intently.
Another contraction squeezes my womb tight, and just when the pain reaches its pinnacle, I feel something pop inside my body like a giant water balloon. Clear fluid gushes out onto the hospital bed and no one even seems to notice at first.
“Excuse me,” I call, voice ragged. The nurse and my husband-to-be look down at me. “My water just broke.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the nurse murmurs, a little smile twinkling in her eyes. “I need you to answer a few more questions for me, and then we’ll get you back to delivery.”
I have to walk to the stupid delivery room, and answering the rest of the nurse’s questions takes almost half an hour as I’m slowly checked back into the hospital.
They say that it’s close and I can walk, or I can wait for a wheelchair. “I’ll walk!” I yodel, ready to climb a mountain if it means finally getting this baby out of my body. I waddle slowly down the hospital corridor, and every few feet, I have to stop and give my body over to another contraction. More clear fluid spills onto the floor, but the nurse assures me that it’s good. Clear fluid is good fluid.
They submerge me in a tub of warm water when I reach my delivery room, hoping to relax me and speed the process, though I’m only in it for a matter of minutes before I could almost swear that I’m feeling an insatiable urge to push.
“That can’t be right, it just started,” I moan, remembering all the labor stories that I read in preparation for this moment. Labor takes hours and hours. There’s no way that my body is opening up this quickly, and the nurse agrees.
“Let me check you. Lay down on the bed,” she requests, sliding a gloved hand into me to check the diameter of my cervix. She gasps a little and pulls her hand back out. “I’ll be,” she says, shaking her head at me. “You’re ten centimeters, girl, and the doctor isn’t even here yet. Don’t you worry, though. I’m completely trained to deliver a baby if he can’t make it here in time.”
“Excuse me?” Lucas calls behind her. “Did you just say that she’s ready to push and the doctor isn’t even here?”
“We called him,” she answers brightly as I huff and puff on the bed. “And he lives close to the hospital.”
“He was at home?” I wail. This keeps getting worse.
“Don’t worry!” the nurse repeats to me. “I’m fully trained to deliver a baby all by myself.”
Is she serious?
“Now, when you feel that urge to push,” the nurse commands me, “I want you to push. Go ahead and push. Just listen to your body.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I want this baby out. The pushing brings a great swell of relief through my body, and I bear down on my massive belly, giving everything I’ve got. I roar and throw my head back, and the team of nurses now surrounding my vagina are all cheering.
“You’re so close!” they say. “You’re so close, keep pushing!”
I take a break and push again, but nothing happens.
“She’s a big baby,” the head nurse realizes, feeling my womb, which is as tight as a drum. “Her shoulder is caught. I’m going to push on you as hard as I can, all right, to get her loose so she can come through the canal. Everything is going to be fine. All you need to do is push. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready,” I cry, and the nurse shoves at my stomach as I push as hard as I can along with her. I feel something shift and the baby’s body avalanches through me, spilling into another nurse’s arms.
“Oh my god,” Lucas breathes.
“Oh my god,” I echo, trembling all over, so relieved that she’s finally here and I’m finally done.
I’m almost loopy at this point, even though I didn’t have time to get any drugs in my system, but I do distantly hear the umbilical cord being cut. I do distantly hear a baby’s high-pitched, strangled cry, and then a slimy, tiny, pink thing is on my chest.
My heart blooms, warmth spreads through me. A thud in my chest: this is my child. Mine and Lucas’s.
It takes a little doing, but finally, she’s clamped to my nipple and sucks hungrily.
“Oh my god,” I say again, tears filling my eyes. It’s finally over, and now the real adventure can begin.
“You did an amazing job,” Lucas says, squeezing my shoulder at my side. I look up at him and his eyes flick to me, crinkled with pride and a little misty. He looks to the tiny baby in my arms again. Our baby. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he rasps. “No drugs. No time. Just amazing.”
“I can’t take any credit for that,” I tell him, even though I’m pretty shocked at how it all happened, too. “What are we going to name her, baby?”
“What if we named her Maggie?” he wonders, squeezing my shoulder. “For the woman who brought us together without even knowing it.”
“Maggie,” I whisper down to our little baby girl. “It’s perfect, Lucas. It’s perfect.”
Epilogue
Lucas
One Year Later
The church is already packed with attendants by the time the silly bride and groom arrive, late. But we have three kids to wrestle with.
“This is so surreal,” Sofia breathes as I lead her into the sweeping foyer of the cathedral. “It feels like we’ve already been married for years.”
I smile down at her, holding our little baby Maggie in her ar
ms, and I have to agree. We’ve been together for two years next month, and we have a child together, but we’re only just getting married now. I could’ve sworn she was my wife the instant she walked through my cabin’s front door, soaking wet in a Henley and skinny jeans.
Maggie Marshall crops up next to Sofia and binds her in a tight, rapid hug, wearing a long turquoise blue gown and her hair in one thick fishtail braid down her shoulders.
“Oh, my god, you made it!” Maggie squeals, holding Sofia tight. “Oh, and the little baby Maggie!” She presses a kiss to our daughter’s head, and Baby Maggie swats at her with a toothy grin. “We were taking a pool over at our seats, trying to figure out which one of you two had cold feet.”
“Her,” I tell Maggie with a wink. “Definitely her.”
“Shut up,” Sofia laughs, nudging me warmly. “No one has cold feet. There was traffic, and we’re terrible people. We’re here now, and we’re ready. I wouldn’t cancel my wedding when you drove, like, a thousand miles to get here! Where should I be? What should I be doing? You were always better at this stuff than me.”
“You went to the rehearsal last night, didn’t you?” Maggie shrills at her, then laughs. They never look more alike than when they laugh together. “Luckily for you, I took notes. Come on. There’s a room upstairs for you, doll.” Maggie loops her arm through Sofia’s and pulls her away from me, leaving me wondering where the hell I’m supposed to go.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” A hand claps down on my shoulder, and I pivot toward James, staring after Sofia and Maggie as they ascend the stairwell together. “Who is that?”
“You mean, the woman who looks exactly like my wife?” I ask.
James grins. “That’s the one. Is that the infamous Maggie Marshall, her twin?”
“Duh, man,” I tell him, clapping him on the back. “And no, you can’t have her. That’s too weird.”
“What? Why?” James yelps. “After everything I’ve done for you?”