Page 99 of Heal For Me

“A rainbow.”

In the break of the clouds, a faint rainbow arches across the sky.

Like I said, always wait for the end of the storm.

I drop my head onto his chest and release a peaceful breath. I don’t know what the future holds for us. We are still so young, yes, even Ash even though he is almost thirty-five. So many unsure variables, and unanswered questions. The one thing I’m not unsure about is my husband. I know many people probably look at us and our relationship and think that because of the distance we will never last, but they don’t know how stubborn we are. How in love too, but mostly stubborn.

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Epilogue Two

Ash

As I stare down at my wife, teary eyed, and breathing hard, I can’t help but allow my own emotions to rise.

“One more time, Mum.” The doctor tells Payson. She pinches her eyes, pushes, and a few seconds later the best sound I’ve ever heard fills the room.

The doctor holds up our baby into the air and all I can do is stare. He’s perfect. A thick head of dark hair, crying, and so fucking small compared to our two others I’m worried about touching him. Payson falls back, exhausted, but smiling with wet cheeks.

“I’m a mom.” Her lips wobble. I slant my mouth over hers, tasting the saltiness of her tears and sweat.

“Again.”

“Again,” She repeats, crying even harder.

The nurse passes Payson our newest son and my heart fucking aches in my chest. I have loved Payson through so many stages over the years, and she has looked more beautiful than I thought possible in all of them. But mum Payson, nearly knocks me on my ass every time I look at her playing with our two oldest, and now while feeding our youngest.

I stopped trying to get her pregnant—for a while when she left for college. I was still pumping her full every chance we were together, but the birth control stopped it from leading anywhere. It wasn’t until she announced that she was done playing professional ball that I thought we would start trying seriously, but it turned out she was done playing because she was pregnant with our first, Murphy.

I thought Payson had years left of playing, but she stopped taking her birth control—without my knowledge—and two months later she was pregnant. It worried me, for a while, her not having volleyball in her life like she’s had for years, but I remember so vividly her grabbing my hand and pressing it against her small stomach where our only weeks old baby lay and saying, “I love volleyball and I thought it was the dream, but this is it, Ash. This is my dream, a family with you.”

I fucked her hard after that, surprised she didn’t become pregnant a second time.

That was four years ago now and I think she’s been pregnant ever since. We’re taking a break after this one. Give her body a rest, and just enjoy the family we have.

Hours later, I’m holding our son while his mum rests. He’s so perfect, and big. A whole nine pounds four ounces. He’s nearly two pounds bigger than his eldest brother was when he was born. I’ve watched Payson give birth three times now and I don’t think I’ll ever not be amazed at how beautiful she can grow a baby. Most people say our boys look like me, but they don’t see how Murphy nose scrunches when he doesn’t like something we made for dinner, or how Franklin’s eyes hint at green when they hit the sun. Our boys might favor my looks, but their mum is everywhere throughout them in small ways.

There’s a knock on the door, and then small footsteps are sprinting inside.

“Frankie,” I say in a whisper, but it’s pointless because as soon as Payson hears her sons footsteps her eyes are fluttering open. Frankie is named after my dad, but since we already have two Williams in the family, we went with his middle name Franklin.

“It’s fine.” She laughs while she pushes herself to sit up and greet him.

“Where’s Murphy?” I ask.

Jethro stops by her side and kisses her forehead. “With Parker, they had to stop off at the vending machine. He was hungry despite just eating breakfast and a snack before coming here.

“Payson giggles. “They have their dad’s appetite. I don’t stand a chance keeping enough food in the house when they are teenagers.”

Franklin crawls onto the bed and I open my mouth to tell him to be careful but she shoots me a murderous glare before pulling him onto her lap and kissing his face all over.

“I missed you.”

Franklin’s two, and doesn’t talk yet, but I swear they communicate in their own way.

“How is mom?” Jethro asks, taking a seat beside her.

“Tired,” Her smile is lazy. ‘But good.”

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