Iris, named after the flower that symbolized faith and hope, was nothing shy of a miracle, and I felt it every time I looked at her. Yes, there was a moment when I laid eyes on her looking all newborn red and alien like, that I wondered if she’d end up like me. I still didn’t know. But the moment I held her in my arms, I knew I wouldn’t care if she turned out to be a beauty queen or average or just plain ugly in the eyes of the world. Okay, let’s be honest, with a father like Max, her odds of turning out reasonably good looking were pretty strong. All that said, she was perfect to me. So, so breathtakingly perfect. And I’d love her always, no matter what. Most importantly, I’d teach her to love herself. I’d make her strong and confident and she’d know she deserved “a seat at the table,” as Max liked to say.
However, the best part of all wasn’t the peace and joy I felt having her in my arms, but watching Max’s expression when he held her for the first time. For eight months, we had worked at LLL and we had planned for Iris. We spent as much time alone as we could, knowing that we needed time together as husband and wife before our lives changed again. We ate out. We ate in. We took weekend trips. We jogged in the mornings. We made love. A lot. In eight months, we made Max’s house into a home and opened five new LLL locations. It was crazy and exciting, but every day I woke up hearing Max tell me how much he loved me and how lucky he felt. And I knew we were going to change the world for Iris, and she would never feel ugly.
Iris came in the middle of the night, and Max was a mess, all panicked and trying to be in charge, but having absolutely zero control over what happened next.
“Just stay strong, Lily,” he kept saying over and over again. “I love you. You can do this.”
“Shut up. You stay strong! You first!” I’d screamed with the terrible contractions.
Then she arrived.
It was like the entire world disappeared, and all Maxwell Cole could see was her. Just her. I can’t recall ever seeing a man look at something with so much love. And I could swear that little baby, only a few minutes old, looked right back at him with complete and utter adoration as he held her in his arms.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “I think we’re going to have a big problem.”
Max snapped out of his new-daddy daze, but still had a shit-eating grin. “What’s that?”
“You’re going to spoil her. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I’m going to spoil you first, Lily. You were amazing.” He returned to beaming at Iris. “Didn’t your pretty mommy do a great job?” He kissed her little forehead and spoke in baby talk. “Isn’t dat right, my wittle Iris. We’re going to spoil Mommy and you’re going to be a daddy’s girl.”
I laughed. “No way. She’s going to be independent and strong like her mom. None of the prissy entitled crap.”
Max’s face went all serious. “I’ll make you a deal; the first one I get to spoil, and you can do what you like with the second one.”
I cringed. My body felt like it had gone through a meat grinder. Pregnancy was not my friend right now.
“Why don’t we focus on this one, and after I’m healed, I’ll race you for her.”
Max nodded his head. “A very smart man did say once that if you wanted something, you had to fight for it.”
“Exactly. And, of course, I will so win.”
“Because you play dirty.” He referred to the fact that he’d made me race him for that trip to Milan. I’d won by pulling my shirt off and sprinting for the finish line. It had been nighttime, but Max had still tripped. I won.
Okay, he won. He’d won me.
“All right. That’s enough.” I held out my arms. “Let me hold her again before my parents get here.”
“Nope. She’s mine.” Max sat down and started blowing little kisses at her. “Muah! Muah. You love your daddy, don’t you?”
Seriously. My heart melted. I could look at the two of them all day. “And to think, I almost walked away from this.”
I had come very close to letting my fugly voice tell me lies again, but I’d won the battle. That didn’t mean I didn’t have more growing to do, but things felt different now. I saw my life and myself more clearly. And I had Max and Iris to thank for it.
As for the rest of the world, I’d learned I couldn’t let anything they said or did get between me and the things that really mattered.
Those photos of “Max and Adeline,” by the way? What a goddamned scandal. Ready for this? It turned out that Patricio had been producing a movie—his big indie debut. Though they changed the names to Lilah and Mick in the film to avoid getting sued, the movie was about me and Max. That total pig-woman Adeline, of all of the people in the goddamned world, would play me. Some Max look-alike played Max, and Patricio would play himself.
Such a horrible rat turd of a man. In the press, he claimed that what started out as just research—aka pursuing me—for the film turned into true love after a few dates. I suspected, however, it might have been more about the publicity. I mean, let’s face it, the paparazzi had conveniently shown up a few times when Patricio and I were together. I also wondered if his desire to marry me was more about his ego than anything else. He wouldn’t want to film a movie ending that made him look bad, right? And he definitely saw losing “the girl” to Maxwell Cole as a blow to his ego. Whatever his true feelings, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. Because I’d made my choice. I chose Max. I chose me. I chose a good life for Iris.
I looked at Max holding his tiny daughter in his arms and my heart swelled. Life really could be so beautiful. If you just let it.
The End. (Yes. For real this time.)