“The last time I was here I didn’t even know I was pregnant. Now, I’m a mom.” I lift RJ up and give him a kiss on his forehead. He snuggles into my chest and I welcome it, needing the comfort and warmth he brings to my heart. “His name is Ryan Alejandro Cruz Junior. He’s named after Ryan and my dad.”
I try so hard to control my sobs, but I can’t stop them. I’m so torn. I miss my husband more than anything, but I also know that had he still been alive I wouldn’t have RJ. It’s such a complicated thing to think about. I guess when it comes down to it, I have to look at it like from the darkness of losing Ian—something that was out of my control—a light shone through, and that light was Ryan, and in turn, came RJ.
“I never planned to be a mom so young,” I continue. “But he’s quickly become my entire world. He’s filled so many of the holes you created in my heart when you died.”
I hold RJ tight, crying into his side. I used to dread crying because it symbolized me not moving forward, but now, it feels therapeutic. As if I’m cleansing my heart and making room in it for RJ.
“Ryan leaves next week.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not sure if I should even talk to you about him, but I don’t know who else to talk to, who would understand like you do. He’s in the military. On a deployment in Afghanistan, but he came home for two weeks. He asked me to marry him.” The tears continue to fall, so I set RJ down, not wanting to disturb his sleep. He’s swaddled tightly, so he’s nice and warm.
“I can’t do it,” I tell Ian. “Losing you was so damn hard. I can’t even imagine what losing Ryan would do to me. I want to be strong for him like I was for you when you left for training, but I was naïve back then. I didn’t fully comprehend the risks. Now that I’ve lost you, I get it, and I just can’t bring myself to put my heart out there again. I have to be strong for RJ. He needs me to be strong.”
“Oh, Micaela.” A feminine voice comes from behind and I jolt up to find Ian’s mom standing behind me.
“Mrs. Anderson.”
“Oh, dear, please call me Jeanine. We’re still family.” She envelops me in a hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“And who’s this little guy?” she asks, once we pull apart.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“Stop.” She pats my cheek. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but I heard you talking to Ian when I was walking up. It’s okay.”
“This is RJ.” I kneel next to my son, and Jeanine does the same. “He’s only a week old.”
Tears prick her eyes. “He’s beautiful. And from what I heard, his father is serving overseas.”
“Yes, he’s in the military.”
“Ian’s dad was a SEAL for thirty years. His grandfather was one for thirty-five.”
“Ian was following in their footsteps,” I say, unsure where she’s going with this.
“They’re both still alive.” She raises a single brow and I get it… I don’t like it, but I get it.
“Life is crazy, sweetheart. We never know what today or tomorrow will hold. All we can do is live right now, in the moment, like it’s all we have.”
“I know, but it’s hard. It’s one thing to live life to the fullest, but it’s another to know the man I’m considering giving what’s left of my heart to is purposely going out and risking his life.”
“I know right now your heart is aching. Even after two years, it still hurts. And I can’t speak for Ian, but he loved you so much, and if I had to guess, I would like to think he would be so happy to know you’ve moved forward. You’re so strong, Micaela. You stood by Ian’s side and supported his dreams until his very last breath. But you still have so much love left to give.”
She leans over and kisses my forehead. “Please don’t be a stranger. I would love to spend time with you and that handsome baby.”
“Okay.” I pick up RJ and stand. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
I press two fingers to my lips and then place them on the top of Ian’s headstone. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas!” Mom says, pulling me into a hug, before taking RJ from me so she can give him some morning love. She does it every morning when I come down to eat breakfast before she heads out for the day.
“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” Dad says, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
I glance over and see Liam and Liza are already sitting on the couch waiting to open their presents. Liam most likely doesn’t believe in Santa anymore, but he hasn’t confirmed it, so Mom insisted on playing along just in case. She said it’s more fun when they come from Santa anyway.