I speak clearly and happily into the lens.
“Hello, my beautiful baby! We found out that you’re real today. Our child. You’re really real. I just told your daddy about you. He’s so, so happy. I know you won’t appreciate this until you’re older, but I wanted you to see what he did when he found out he’s going to be your father.”
I turn the camera toward my lap, toward my husband, filling the screen with his breathtaking face. It’s as luminous on the video as it is in real life.
“You’re our miracle,” he whispers, unable to hold back the shimmer of his voice as it quavers with emotion. He turns his attention back to me, his features full of all the love we’ve shared over the years, and he whispers, “Thank you.”
Nate doesn’t have to explain what he means.
I know.
As I turn off the video, my sweet husband comes to his knees. Tenderly, adoringly, he pulls me into his arms and buries his face in the curve of my neck.
It’s in the quiet that I hear the softness of his tears, the beauty of his happiness.
Twelve
Life is Beautiful
Lena
“Merry Christmas!”
That’s the first thing I hear when I roll over onto my back. Before I can respond, Nate’s hand is flattened out over my stomach, a tender gesture that he does more times each day than I can count.
I feel the rise of my nightgown and the falling away of the covers as my husband bends to press his lips to my belly.
“Merry Christmas, little one,” he murmurs to our unborn child.
As it has so often in the last thirty-plus hours, my throat constricts. If I lived to be a thousand years old, I can’t imagine ever being unaffected by his sweetness. I suppose whether God and I patch things up or not, I have to thank Him for Nate.
After pulling the covers back over me, Nate settles back onto the pillow beside me, bending his arm and resting his head on his fist. Then he proceeds to ask the first of many questions. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me when you found out? And when did you find out, by the way?”
He isn’t angry; he’s simply looking for answers. There is no place for anger in our relationship anymore. When I was worrying about how he’d react, I should’ve known that. Our time is limited. Nate won’t waste a moment of it on something negative. He’s as committed to “Blaze of Glory” as I am. But more than that, he’s just an amazing person. This is just who Nate Grant is.
Caring.
Patient.
Wonderful.
“I didn’t feel like I couldn’t tell you. I just knew that it would change you as much as it did me, the instant you found out, and then if I wasn’t able to carry it…” I sigh, closing my eyes against that possibility. “I couldn’t do that to you. You’re already losing me. I didn’t want to give you a baby for a few days and then take that away, too.”
“God, Lena,” he mutters, leaning over to kiss my temple. “You carried this by yourself for all those weeks because you were worried about me.”
It wasn’t an accusation or a question, merely a statement. A statement of understanding. Because he would do the same thing for me.
“Yes. And I’d do it again if I thought it would spare you even one nanosecond of pain.” I work to still my quaking chin, to calm my soul, but the dam is already cracked, already in danger of failing. “Nate, I…I worry about you being all alone. I worry about you period. And I know what you’ll say if I tell you to find someone else and be happy again. I know I probably shouldn’t even waste my time telling you those kinds of things. But I can’t help worrying about it. About all of it. About all of you. So when I saw those two pink lines…I felt like my every unspoken prayer had been answered. Well, most of them anyway,” I sniff on a bitter laugh. The healing I’d plead for felt almost like too much to ask on top of everything else. That’s why I’ll be content if I can just give him this baby. That will be enough.
It’ll have to be.
Nate only nods. I know he isn’t surprised. Not really. We know each other too well for that. He knows how much I love him. He knows to what lengths I will go to protect him. And I know he would do the same for me. It’s who we are.
It’s who we are to each other.
“Did you ever consider any other… alternatives?”
I know he knows the answer to that as well. I just can’t decide if it’s hope I hear in his voice or merely curiosity.
“Not for a single second. Why?” Nate shrugs, and I watch him carefully. When he doesn’t answer, I prompt, “Nate, why do you ask?”