makes this meeting that much more nerve wracking.
He takes my hand, leading me down the hallway toward his living room where Conrad and Helena are seated on the Chesterfield sofa.
I lock eyes with his mother first, and she stands.
His father clears his throat, tugging at his navy sport coat.
“How are you feeling, Maribel?” Helena asks, her voice as gentle as a cloud.
“Great,” I say. “Just had an appointment earlier today. Baby’s healthy.”
“That’s wonderful,” she says, motioning toward the seat beside her. “Why don’t you have a seat, dear?”
I pad across the room, taking the spot beside her and noticing a little blue Tiffany’s bag nestled beneath the coffee table.
“I wanted you to know,” she begins, “that we accept you—and your baby—into our family with open arms.”
My eyes well, my chest tingles with fullness.
“We’ve shared many things with the Sheffields in our time,” Conrad says. “Why not share a grandchild?”
“We think it’ll be a wonderful thing,” she says, reaching for my hand and taking it between her palms. “We adore you, Maribel.”
“Really?” My voice breaks.
“Why do you seem so shocked?” Helena laughs, glancing at Conrad.
“From the moment I met you, I knew you were a good girl,” Conrad says. “And we knew that our boy was crazy about you. All a parent can ever really hope for is that their child finds love and happiness, and Hudson found that with you.”
“I’m so sorry for lying to you both,” I say.
“Yes,” Hudson says. “We want to make it clear, we accept full responsibility for our actions, and we’re deeply remorseful.”
“Thank you,” Helena says. “We appreciate that.”
“Thank you for accepting … us.” I place my hand on my stomach.
“Of course,” Conrad says.
“We brought you something.” Helena reaches for the blue Tiffany bag, handing it over. “I’m hoping the baby doesn’t already have one of these.”
I smile, silently assuring her the baby does not, in fact, have a single thing from Tiffany & Co.
Digging past white tissue paper, I pull out a small box containing a silver rattle.
“Thank you,” I say, gently wrapping my arms around her. “I love it.”
“Just a small keepsake,” she says as I pull away. “Hudson had one. A gift from my mother-in-law. You’ll get to meet her next month at my niece’s wedding in Portland. You’ll be joining us, won’t you? As Hudson’s plus one?”
I glance at Hudson, vaguely recalling when we’d signed the original agreement and he mentioned that I’d be accompanying him to a slew of weddings and family gatherings over the course of the summer. But that was then. And he’s yet to ask me as his date … officially.
“Will you join me as my plus one for cousin Jennifer’s wedding next month?” he asks, practically reading my mind.
“I’d love to,” I say.
“Wonderful.” Helena claps her hands together before standing. “We won’t keep you. We just wanted to stop by and give you your gift and welcome you back to the family with open arms.”
“Thank you.” I follow them to the door with Hudson behind me, his hand on the small of my back. “We’ll see you next month!”
She blows a kiss on the tips of her fingers before waving goodbye to us and disappearing into the hallway behind Conrad.
The second they’re gone, I exhale.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hudson says, drawing me in.
I place my hands on his chest, staring up into his deep blues. I’d live in them if I could, I love them so.
“So what now?” I ask.
His lips curl into a devilish grin and his hands slide down my sides, lifting me and carrying me back to his room.
Burying my face in his neck, I throw my arms around his corded-steel shoulders and breathe him in.
I love him.
So hard.
Epilogue
Hudson
* * *
Six months later…
* * *
Mari cradles Grey Hudson Sheffield in her arms. All seven pounds and eight ounces of him are swaddled in a white muslin blanket covered in baby giraffes, and he’s fast asleep, out cold with a full belly. She wears exhaustion like a rock star, exuberant and glowing despite a twenty-two-hour labor and two hours of pushing.
Sitting beside her, I can’t take my eyes off these two beautiful, tired souls.
“I can’t stop looking at him,” she says, her voice a gentle breeze. “Isn’t he perfect?”
“Yeah.” I place my hand over hers. “He really is.”
Alec is seated on the other side of the hospital bed, watching his newborn son sleep. He flew to Nebraska from Hong Kong a couple of weeks ago in anticipation of the birth, but Mari