“I was scared. But not completely alone. I had Ayana, and I had Carly.” I smiled. “And of course, I had the baby inside of me, and my characters when I needed a short escape from reality.”
He smiled softly. “Did you . . . have an easy pregnancy? What about your delivery?”
“I was sick for the first fourteen weeks, and I gave in to my strange craving for red licorice more often than I should have.” I gave him a wry smile. “But overall, everything went well. I stayed home while I labored so when I got to the hospital, it was only an hour until he was born.”
A pained look crossed his features and he looked past me. “I should have been there. I’d give anything to have been there.”
I studied him for a moment. “You’re here now.”
He nodded, leaning back on my counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “I had it out with her,” he finally said. “Giselle. I told her never to contact me again.”
“Oh,” I said, unsure how to respond to that. “Zakai, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder but you have to understand—”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, blowing out a breath. “I do understand. I don’t blame you.”
He met my gaze finally, his assessing eyes moving over my features. “I’m the one who should have tried harder.”
I watched him for a moment. “You can only do what you know how to do,” I said. I’d learned that lesson well. “We can both wish we’d grown up sooner, or healed more quickly, or made different choices, but what good does that do?”
He looked pensive, appearing to be considering his words. “You’re right. There’s not a rule book for what we experienced. We had so few people to guide us through it. I think we have to try to forgive ourselves and each other.”
I let out a loud gust of air, tears welling in my eyes. “I’ve already forgiven you, Zakai. I hope you forgive me too.”
“On one condition.”
My startled laugh emerged as his lips tilted in a playful smile. “What condition?”
He paused, emotion flaring in his eyes. He walked slowly toward me as my blood quickened. “Marry me,” he said. “I want children with you and lots of them. I want to watch them grow in your belly. I want to watch you nurse them at your breast, and I want to hear you sing them to sleep.”
A groan of relief and love and thankfulness burst from my throat. Zakai gathered me in his arms, bringing his mouth to my ear. “I’ve lost so much time, Karys. With you. With him. Hating myself. God, I don’t want to lose any more.”
I took his beloved face in my hands, the other half of me, and I kissed his lips. “Me neither,” I murmured. “Not another second.”
“I love you so damn much, little star.”
“I love you too, Zakai.”
We hadn’t lost. We had gained. The pain had made our purpose clear and we’d both found a way to see the fullness of our life’s picture. It was beautiful. And it was dark. It was wonderful. And tragic. And yes, unconventional. But it was complete, in all its light and depth. And most importantly, it was ours.
EPILOGUE
“You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.”
-Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
Zakai
I set my duffel bag down near the front door, shrugging off my coat and walking as quietly as I could up the stairs of my house. All was quiet. Peaceful. I pushed the first door on the right open, smiling as I walked to Levy’s bed, squatting down next to it, and kissing his forehead. Love hit me in the gut, stealing my breath. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled sleepily. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey,” I said on an exhale. “Sorry I woke you.”
“I’m glad you’re home.”
I smoothed his hair back. “Me too, buddy. Go back to sleep.”
He nodded, his eyes already beginning to shut again.
“Hey, Dad,” he said when I’d stood and turned toward the door.
“Yeah?” I whispered, turning back around.
“Pancakes for breakfast?”
“Absolutely.”
“I love you,” he said, a smile on his lips as he turned onto his side, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.
“I love you too.”
My next stop was my daughter’s room. I smiled as I disentangled the sheets from her legs, pulling her bedding up over her. She’d kicked it off in sleep and now lay spread-eagle, one leg over the edge, her arms above her head. She slept like she lived. With vivacious abandon. My heart constricted. She was a wild, energetic, delightful joy who was going to keep Karys and me on our toes for the foreseeable future.
And I couldn’t have been any happier about that fact.
I tiptoed out of Rina’s room and turned toward the master bedroom.
My wife lay sleeping, curled onto her side, lips parted, hands folded beneath her cheek just as she’d always slept. My light. My life. Karys. As usual, my body reached for hers before I’d taken a single step.