Epilogue
hundred and thirty-eight minutes later.
“Hello, little one,” I coo as I stroke my finger down a chubby, pink cheek.
Jaxon sits in the seat next to the bed, wiping his hand across his eyes.
“I think your daughter wants another cuddle, Daddy.” I smile, looking over at him.
He raises his eyes to my face. They’re tired, rimmed with red from the lost night’s sleep. The first of many, probably. Yet, he doesn’t complain.
His face lights up as he takes the precious bundle out of my arms and sinks back into the chair.
“Hello, beautiful girl,” he says to her before he looks up at me. “Did you see that? She wrinkled her nose, just like her mummy.”
“She did not,” I reply with laughter.
He gazes back down at her, his eyes swimming with love and pride.
“She’s so perfect, Megan. You, her… I’m in heaven.”
“You’re an old softie, you know that?” I reach over and place my hand on his arm.
“Don’t tell anyone.” He smirks.
I smile as he cradles our daughter in his arms.
Our beautiful new beginning.
I told Articulate I wouldn’t be back after maternity leave. Frankie is taking over as head of design, and he will be fantastic. And Tina has already asked me to do the rest of the White Fire book covers as a freelance job. It’s still a long way to release for the later books, so I have time to work on them over maternity leave.
And I’ve found a new passion.
Since meeting Joanna and going to Martin’s book launch, I’ve met some amazing cancer survivors and their families. I’ve been getting requests for portraits. Some for after recovery, and some using photographs of those who were taken too soon.
It’s heart-breaking.
But it’s an honour to be asked and trusted in such a way.
Life is precious and fragile.
But it’s also wonderful and beautiful—much like our lovely little nugget who’s now dreaming in her daddy’s arms.
Dreaming of the big wide world and all the adventures she will have.
My heart could burst. I never thought I’d be here today. It’s not been easy, but it’s been worth every tear I cried. Every bump, every setback… they were all part of this journey.
And it isn’t over yet.
The best is yet to come.
“You know, everyone’s going to be waiting for news.”
Jaxon looks up at me. “Okay, let’s make the calls. Tell everyone how she arrived exactly one hundred and thirty-eight minutes after arriving at the hospital.”
I tilt my head. “You think your dad helped bring her to us safely?”
Jaxon told me about the visits to his dad’s grave.
The last time he went there, I went with him, and we counted those steps together, side by side.
“Do you think that’s silly?” He looks over at me.
“Not at all. I think it’s beautiful.”
“They’re going to want to know her name.” Jaxon gets up from his chair and perches on the bed next to me.
I lean my head against his arm and look down at our daughter staring back up at us, her eyes struggling to focus.
“You said you’re in heaven,” I murmur.
Jaxon kisses my head. “I am. You two are my heaven.”
“How about Nevaeh? It’s Heaven backwards.”
“Nevaeh,” he says, trying it out. “I guess you and I never do things the straightforward way, do we?” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he chuckles.
“Where’s the fun in that?” I giggle.
“Nevaeh,” he says again as he smiles at me.
My heart lifts.
The sight of him sitting here with our daughter in his arms is better than any sketch I could draw in my sketchbook.
This right here is art.
Real, true, living and breathing art.
Life brought us together. Love held us to one another even when we thought we were slipping from one another’s grasp.
And she came from all of it.
Our biggest masterpiece.
Nevaeh.
