“Never mind Jerome.” Finn took the ring out and tossed the box over his shoulder. Then he lifted her left hand and pressed his lips to the back of it, sliding the ring onto her finger. “This diamond has hundreds of millions of years in it… that’s how long it took to form. And that’s how our life together will be. We’re going to squeeze millions of years into a short time.”
As he rose to his feet, she stared at the ring on her finger. Her heart swelled with his love. But she wasn’t ready to accept his description of their future together. Holding back a sob, she gripped his arm with both hands. “Stop talking like you’re going to die in a few years. Some people with CF live to be in their sixties. Some have made it to seventy.” She stuck out her jaw, swallowing a lump of air. “You don’t have to promise to live that long, but you have to promise to try.”
His hand rose to caress her face, his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. “I’ll keep living as long as I can. With every fiber of my being, I’ll try.” He kissed her forehead and held her against him, his voice rumbling in her ear. “Until this moment, I’ve never had a reason to try. But now I have you… my reason to live.”
EPILOGUE
Finn had sweat beading on his forehead, and it wasn’t because of the temperature. In fact, the hospital room was cold. But, trying to comfort his emotional wife was proving to be the challenge of his life.
“Nothing’s happening the way it was supposed to,” she said, in a wobbly voice as she shifted in the hospital bed. “I ruined your birthday.”
“You didn’t ruin it—you’re giving me the best gift ever.”
“This is your big day…” She sniffed. “I had this really great speech ready, all about how you turned thirty-eight and officially beat the odds. And how our next forty years together will be even better than our first four have been.”
“You can give your speech later. I’ll still be thirty-eight a month from now, and we’ll still be married.” He bobbed his eyebrows up and down to tease her. “At least, I hope so.”
Her mouth twitched, like she was holding back a smile.
“I’m serious,” she said.
“Hi, Serious. I’m Finn.”
Laughing, he ducked to avoid the hand that swatted at him.
“Don’t you ever stop joking around?”
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question. We’ve been married for four and a half years, so I think you know the answer.”
Suddenly, her eyes flew open wide. “We have to tell everyone the party’s canceled. They’re all going to be waiting for us.”
“It’s already done.” Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss on her fingers. “Branson took care of it, hours ago. They’re still having the party—they just moved it to the waiting room.”
“Everyone’s here?”
“Everybody. My folks and your folks. Bran and Stephanie. Cole and Jarrett. My sisters. Jerome and Charisse even came with their baby.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You were kind of busy having labor pains when they got here.”
This was evidently the wrong thing to say. Tears welled in her eyes. “Thirty-six weeks—it’s too early.”
“The doc isn’t worried at all.”
“I wanted to do it naturally. I didn’t want to have a C-section. I didn’t even want to have an epidural.”
“Yes, but we aren’t in control here. God is. You didn’t plan to have pre-eclampsia. You can’t help that your blood pressure shot through the roof. But we’re blessed with an amazing doctor. She said the scar won’t even be that big.”
“I don’t care about the scar,” she muttered, her lower lip trembling.
“In that case, I’ll tell her to cut a great big half-circle so your belly will look like a one-eyed smiley-face.”
Her lips twitched up at the corners.
“I did it!” he said, pumping his fist in the air. “I made you smile.”
“Finn, you’re incorrigible.”
“Why, thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.”
Her smile stayed in place, though it was understandably weak. She’d been laboring for six hours. Though she’d hoped to have a natural birth, he was secretly relieved when the doctor announced they needed to do a C-section and gave her an epidural. Watching someone he loved in so much pain was the worst experience of his life. At least now her pain was only the emotional kind. That much he could handle… maybe. But if he’d known how hard this part would be, he never would’ve agreed to do the invitro fertilization.
Her gasp made him jump.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurting again?”
“What about Larkin?” she asked in a worried tone, as if he would’ve forgotten about her.
He tried to sound patient. “Marianne’s taking care of her. She’ll stay the night.”
For two and a half years, Marianne had been a devoted nanny to the daughter they’d adopted at the age of three months. Larkin was a bundle of joy who hadn’t let blindness stop her from conquering her world on a daily basis.
Laurie’s hand gripped his wrist. “You didn’t tell them, did you?
He knew what she was asking. “They all begged me to say if it was a boy or a girl. But I didn’t budge. I figure, if they’ve waited this long, they can wait a few more minutes.”
“Finn?” she whispered, and he leaned in close to hear. “I’m nervous. I’ve never had surgery.”
