This motherfucker.

This asshole.

This man I’d once called my friend stood there, in front of me, in front of the woman I loved, yes, loved, the child I’d only just found out was mine, and asked me what I was doing here?

If I hadn’t been in a room with said woman I loved and my newly born child, I would’ve dragged him out of the damn hospital and beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

“Erika?” Marc prompted.

His sister stared at him, red-cheeked, her lips pulled back against her teeth. “I swear to god if I didn’t have a baby in this room I would cuss you out,” she hissed.

Marc paled even further.

“And I’d beat you,” I said, just as quietly. “You told me she was with her ex. You told me it was his baby.”

“And you told me Noah would want nothing to do with the baby.” Erika struggled upward, but I placed a hand on her shoulder, soothing her so she lay back down again. “You asshat,” she whispered, then winced and looked over at the sleeping baby.

“Quarter in the swear jar,” I joked, but turned back to Marc, and let the rage building inside me show on my face.

He took a step back.

“You had no right,” Erika continued. “You had no right to do that, Marc. This is my life, not yours, and I chose Noah. I should never have listened to you. I should never have listened to the nagging inner doubt, either, but you—you tricked me. You tricked him. You—”

Once again, I soothed her, this time stroking my palm across her forehead, then leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s OK,” I said. “Let me handle this.”

She quieted, and I turned to my old friend, the man I’d thought I could trust above anyone else. My brother in all but biology. “Erika’s correct. You didn’t have any right to try control her life and you still don’t. The fact that you think I’m such a bad person after all these years of friendship just shows that you’ve lost touch, that you never understood who I was.”

“Noah, please,” Marc started, and it came out strangled and pathetic.

“I have no interest in talking to you right now.”

“Neither do I,” Erika announced.

“Leave, Marc. You’re not welcome here,” I said.

Maybe, in the distant future, we’d be able to work out our differences, but for now, we were done here. I had more important matters to worry about.

“Erika, please,” Marc said, backing up another step. “Everything I did was in your best interests. I thought it would be for the best if—”

“If I got rid of my baby?” Erika asked.

“What?” I heated all over again. “What?”

Marc’s hand was on the doorknob now. “I just wanted you to have a good life, a full one, and I didn’t think you’d have that with Noah or with a baby. I—”

“Get out!” Erika snapped.

The baby didn’t wake but did make soft sucking sounds in her sleep.

Marc stood at the door for a second longer, shaking his head. He opened and shut his mouth, then finally slipped out and shut the door behind himself.

Erika exhaled, slowly. “Well, at least that’s over with. For now.”

“For now,” I agreed.

I turned toward her properly and took her in, every part of her—her hair still frazzled from the birth, and her soft skin glowing by the lights in the private room. She had the same soft lips, now stretching into a smile, and the glint in her eyes. She was positively radiant. If anything, more beautiful than she’d been back when she’d lived with me in the apartment.

She’d matured over the course of the past nine months. She’d grown even more womanly. Even more irresistible.

“I’m sorry you had to do this on your own,” I said, for the second time. The fact that I hardly apologized was out the window. Everything had changed for her. She broke my hard and fast rules completely.

“I wasn’t on my own,” she said, still smiling, giving off that gentleness. “I had Luna to help me.”

“She’s a good friend,” I commented. The type of friend I’d thought I’d had in Marc. “I’m happy you weren’t alone. Just wish it had been me.”

“Um, you can make up for that now,” Erika said, and it was the first time I’d seen her shy. Truly shy.

“I will,” I said. “You can bet your cute ass I will.”

“I just gave birth, Noah. My ass is fat as heck.”

I grinned at her, leaned in, and kissed her forehead, tasting salt and her unique flavor on my lips. “We’re saying ass an awful lot in front of the baby.”

“A dollar in the swear jar?”

“Eh, she can’t understand us yet, so we’ll let it slide this time,” I said, drawing ever closer to her. I brushed my nose against hers and she caught her breath, held it,

“Noah,” she whispered.

“I’m right here,” I replied. “And I’m never leaving again.” I pressed my lips to hers, kissed her carefully, allowing her to dictate the pace this time.

She snaked her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, grabbed at the back of my head, at my shoulders, moaned quietly.

I deepened the kiss, parted her lips, and tasted her as I’d dreamed of for months. In the darkest hours, in the quietest times, alone in my bed, I’d fantasized about this moment with her. I’d dreamed it was possible, lovesick even as I despised myself for it. For losing her. Blamed myself.

And now, I had it.

I had my woman in my arms. Every emotion I’d held at bay rose to the surface. I stroked her cheek with my thumb, ran fingers down her face, to her collarbone, itched to go lower, but kept myself in check.

She gasped against my lips. “Noah, oh my god.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I know. It’s too good. We gotta stop, Erika, or we’re going to both wind up with blue balls.”

“Blue ovaries,” she said and giggled, pressing her forehead to mine. The laughter waned fast, and a frown cropped up. “Noah, I don’t want to play games. This is serious. There’s more than just our feelings at stake now. I can’t allow her to get hurt.”

“I don’t play games,” I said and separated from her, slightly, dropped to one knee at the bedside, between the basinet and pink sheets.

“Oh my god,’ she whispered, pressing one hand to her lips, tears spilling onto her cheeks again. “Oh my god, Noah, are you serious?”

“I’ve loved you since we were teenagers,” I said, taking her left hand in mine. “Put another quarter in that swear jar for this one, but I was an asshole since we were teenagers too. I didn’t want to believe that it could be real, that I’d find someone I actually cared about.”

She sniffled, smiling now.

“But I have found that in you. You’re perfect for me, and all the screwups of the past don’t matter. And if they do, I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Proving to you that I am the man you need in your life. That I will be there no matter what. That I will protect you, and honor you, and be the father to your child, that I will love you until the day my body gives out. And even then. Even then.”

“Noah.” She pressed her free hand to my cheek, stroked the rough stubble along my jaw.

“You’re perfect for me, Erika. You’re my dream. Please, make that dream a reality and become my wife.”

“I will,” she whispered, and I rose from my knee and drew her into an embrace, held her tight. She wept against my shoulders, wetting the crook of my neck, and I gulped down my emotion, plastered the side of her head with kisses.

I cupped her face in both of my hands, stroked the tears from under her eyes, and kissed her again. “Now,” I said, “I don’t have a ring on me at the moment, but I’m kinda hoping you can forgive me for that.”

“Forgive you!” Erika hiccupped. “Noah, there’s nothing to forgive. There is literally nothing to forgive. I hope you know that.”

We kissed again and parted slowly. I perched on the edge of her bed, holding her hand, switching my gaze, my fucking alive eyes, alive for her, from Erika to our baby. “Have you decided what to call her yet?”

“No,” she replied, and dragged a tissue from a box of Kleenex on the bedside tables. There were no flowers there yet. I’d have to remedy that. “I was stumped, until now.”

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

She squeezed my hand. “Hope. I’m thinking Hope.”

“Hope,” I repeated, admiring our little girl, her tiny hands and her tiny button nose. She had downy brown hair, like mine, but I had a feeling that she’d have her mother’s eyes. “Hope. She’s perfect.”