Ugly Love

Chapter twenty-six


MILES


Six years earlier


My room is Rachel’s now. Rachel’s room is my room.

We graduated. We moved in together. We’re in college now.

See? We’ve got this.

Ian brings in the last of the boxes from the car. “Where do you

want this one?” he asks.

“What is it?” Rachel asks him.

He tells her it looks like a box full of her bras and underwear.

She laughs and tells him to set it next to my dresser. Ian does.

Ian likes Rachel. Ian likes that she’s not holding me back. Ian

likes that she wants me to get my degree and finish flight

school.

Rachel wants me to be happy. I tell Rachel I’ll be happy as long

as I have her.

She tells me, “Then you’ll always be happy.”

My dad still hates me. My dad doesn’t want to hate me.

They’re trying to accept it, but it’s hard. It’s hard for everyone.

Rachel doesn’t care what everyone thinks. She only cares what

I think, and I only think about Rachel.

I’m learning that no matter how difficult a situation is, people

learn how to adapt to it. My dad and her mom may not

approve, but they’ll adapt.

Rachel may not be ready to be a mom, and I may not be ready

to be a dad, but we’re adapting.

It’s what has to happen. If people want peace within

themselves, it’s necessary.

Vital, even.

? ? ?

“Miles.”

I love my name when it comes out of her mouth. She doesn’t

waste it. She only says it when she needs something. She only

says it when it needs to be said.

“Miles.”

She said it twice.

She must really need something.

I roll over, and she’s sitting up in bed. She looks at me, wide-

eyed.

“Miles.” Three times. “Miles.” Four. “It hurts.”

Shit.

I jump out of bed and grab our bag. I help Rachel change

clothes. I help her to the car.

She’s scared.

I might be more scared than she is.

I hold her hand while we drive. I tell her to breathe. I don’t

know why I tell her this. Of course, she knows to breathe.

I don’t know what else to tell her.

I feel helpless.

Maybe she wants her mom.

“Do you want me to call them?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet,” she says. “After.”

She just wants it to be us. I like this. I just want it to be us, too.

A nurse helps her out of the car. They take us to a room. I get

Rachel whatever she needs.

“Do you need ice?”

I get it for her.

“Do you want a cold rag?”

I get it for her.

“Do you want me to turn off the TV?”

I turn it off.

“Do you want another blanket, Rachel? You look cold.”

I don’t get her a blanket. She’s not cold.

“Do you want more ice?”

She doesn’t want more ice.

She wants me to shut up.

I shut up.

“Give me your hand, Miles.”

I give it to her.

I want it back.

She’s hurting it.

I let her keep it anyway.

She’s quiet. She never makes a sound. She just breathes. She’s

incredible.

I’m crying. I don’t know why.

I love you so goddamn much, Rachel.

The doctor tells her she’s almost done. I kiss her on the

forehead.

It happens.

I’m a dad.

She’s a mom.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor says.

She’s holding him. She’s holding my heart.

He stops crying. He tries to open his eyes.

Rachel cries.

Rachel laughs.

Rachel tells me thank you.

Rachel tells me thank you. Like she wasn’t the one who created

this.

Rachel is crazy.

“I love him so much, Miles,” she says. She’s still crying. “I love

him so, so much.”

“I love him, too,” I tell her. I touch him. I want to hold him,

but I want her to hold him even more. She looks beautiful

holding him.

Rachel looks up at me. “Will you please tell me his name

now?”

I was hoping he would be a boy so I could have this moment.

I was hoping I could tell her what her son’s name is, because I

know she’ll love it.

I hope she remembers the moment

she

became

my

everything.

Miles is going to show you the way to Mr. Clayton’s class, Rachel.

“His name is Clayton.”

She begins to sob.

She remembers.

“It’s perfect,” she says, her words mixed with tears.

She’s crying too hard now. She wants me to hold him.

I sit on the bed with her and take him.

I’m holding him.

I’m holding my son.

Rachel rests her head on my arm, and we stare at him.

We stare at him for so long. I tell Rachel he has her red hair.

Rachel says he has my lips. I tell Rachel I hope he has her

personality. She disagrees and says she hopes he’s just like me.

“He makes life so much better,” she says.

“He sure does.”

“We’re so lucky, Miles.”

“We sure are.”

Rachel squeezes my hand.

“We’ve got this,” Rachel whispers.

“We’ve so got this,” I tell her.

Clayton yawns, and it makes us both laugh.

Since when did yawns become so incredible?

I touch his fingers.

We love you so much, Clayton.