“I hate this,” she says with the most adorable pout when everyone leaves so she can get some rest.
“I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”
She rolls her eyes, and I laugh. Fuck, I’ve missed her so much. I want to be mad at her, but my heart is too full. She gave me the most precious gift in the entire world.
“Do you have a name in mind?” I ask, trying to distract her.
“I thought of a couple, but I’m not set on one. Any names significant to you?” she asks. “Anyone you want to name him after?”
I give her question some thought. I was adopted, so I don’t know where my name comes from or why I have it. I have no middle name. I don’t know any of my biological family members. And then it hits me… This baby is the first biological relative I know. He has my blood running through his veins. I never not considered my family, my family just because we don’t share blood. But knowing my son does has my heart pumping hard against my ribcage. I don’t know who my biological father is. He was a piece of shit, and I don’t care to know him. But I know who the man who raised and loved me is: Bentley Ryan Cruz. The man who took me in, gave me his last name, and loved me like his own.
“What are you thinking?” Micaela asks.
“Um… well… my dad’s middle name is Ryan. He’s named after his dad, which coincidently is also my name.”
Micaela smiles softly. “I didn’t know that. That’s really cool. Like it was meant to be. Would you like to name him Ryan?”
“We don’t have to,” I backtrack. “What names were you thinking?”
“I like Ryan,” she says. “It’s a good, strong name. And we could give him my dad’s middle name too. It’s Alejandro.”
“Ryan Alejandro…” I don’t finish, unsure if she’ll use my last name or hers.
“Cruz,” she finishes. “Ryan Alejandro Cruz Junior. We can call him RJ for short.”
“RJ.” I find myself grinning like a fool. “I like it.”
“Me too.”
A few minutes later, the nurse comes in with a wheelchair and lets us know Micaela can go see RJ now. We help her from the bed and into the chair, and then the nurse wheels her to the NICU.
Micaela’s mom is coming out as we’re going in. “He’s so perfect,” Bella gushes. “You two definitely made a beautiful baby.” She bends and hugs her daughter. “Congratulations, sweet girl.”
“We picked a name,” she tells her mom. “Ryan Alejandro Cruz Junior.”
Her mom smiles. “Oh, what a perfect name!”
“We’re going to call him RJ for short,” I add.
“I love it. Can I let everyone know?”
“Of course,” Micaela says, her eyes flitting to the NICU. She wants in there so badly, but she’s trying to be polite.
After washing our hands and putting on gowns, we enter the area.
The neonatal nurse smiles warmly at us and walks over. “You ready to hold Baby Boy Anderson?”
Micaela’s brows furrow in confusion right before a look of longing mars her beautiful features.
“They name them based on the mother’s last name,” I tell her, helping her out of the wheelchair and onto a leather sofa. She nods, but doesn’t say a word, most likely thinking about Ian. Briefly, I wonder if she’s wishing it were him here with her instead of me. Irrational jealously hits me like a punch to the gut, but I quickly force it aside. It’s not fair to bring those feelings into this room. He was her husband, they planned a life together, and now he’s gone. It’s pointless to be jealous of a man who is no longer alive. I’m here with Micaela and we share a son.
The nurse takes RJ from the infant warmer—as the nurse called it earlier—they have to keep him in to monitor him. “Here you go, Mom.” She sets him in Micaela’s arms, and I pull my phone out to take pictures. Tears stream down Micaela’s cheeks as she smiles down lovingly at RJ.
“Ryan,” she breathes, glancing up at me, her brown eyes filled with liquid emotion. “He’s so perfect.” She kisses his forehead and his eyes flutter open. “I can’t believe we created him,” Micaela murmurs, and my heart swells. I never planned to have kids. My life was the military. When Laura suggested we start a family, I couldn’t picture it. I didn’t want it. But as I watch Micaela love on our son, I can see it all vividly: the walks through the park with RJ, pushing him on the swings, family movie nights cuddled on the couch, family pictures, family vacations. Everything my mom and dad gave my sisters and me. I want it all. And I want it with Micaela.
“Marry me,” I blurt out.
Micaela slowly lifts her head, her eyes wide with shock. “Wh-what did you just say?”