Waking up, I feel stiff. There are pads wrapped around my feet that inflate and deflate every few minutes that are annoying the hell out of me. There’s a drip in my arm making my forearm ache, and I feel extremely sleepy and cold.

The smell of blood and iodine makes my head hurt, and I wince from the harsh light beaming above my bed.

Looking around the room there are machines all over, and a TV on the wall, with a lone wooden rocking chair in the corner that holds Mac holding our little girl. Our little girl. I smile, liking the sound of that.

My heart beats at the scene before me. His leather cut hanging off the back of the chair as he holds her like she might break, his intense eyes looking down at her like she’s his whole world. Teaching him how to be soft, and strong at the same time.

The doctor walks into the room, his eyes holding shadows of tiredness under them.

“Ah, you’re awake.” He grins in my direction.

Mac looks my way and lights up in a way that has me glow like a love-struck teenager. Standing from the chair, he comes to my side of the bed.

I try and push myself up, but my abdomen feels like it’s been sliced open and I wince. Letting myself fall back on the bed.

“She’s gorgeous, Simone, you have to see her.” Mac bends down, positioning her in my right arm. The sight of her has me gasp, she’s more beautiful than I would have ever imagined. Having her in my arms distracts me from the foreign pain across my belly, or why exactly I look to be in an ICU room, and not a postpartum room.

Seeing my little girl for the first time, it takes my breath away. Everything fades as I take her in. Her nose is small, and pouty lips adorable. Her fingers tiny, and skin soft. My eyes fill with tears, a sob trembling from my lips. She raises her arm, and my eyes fall on a birthmark on her chest. My lips part as my brain takes me back to the night I conceived her.

A spot on his bicep causes me to turn my head sideways as I focus on it. It’s a birthmark in the shape of a horseshoe, it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before, then again, I’m high. I reach out to touch it, just as he leans down and kisses me.

Coming back from the memory, I continue to stare at the birthmark in awe.

Gatz had the same birthmark. She’s… she’s Gatz’s little girl.

“So, we ran into some complications, Simone.” The doctor sits at the end of the bed, breaking my moment of bliss. Glancing up at him, I remember blacking out right after delivery.

“You had a placenta abruption and lost a lot of blood. Unfortunately, we could not stop the bleeding and had to do a hysterectomy I’m afraid.” His face frowns, and my chest constricts with the information.

“I’m sorry, what?” I half laugh, the information not quite settling.

Mac’s head falls, his hand searching mine under the baby, squeezing tight. Looking at his hand, it starts to sink in. They did a hysterectomy.

“What?” My voice cracks with emotion. A hysterectomy means I can’t have any more kids. I can’t have a big family or give a sister or brother to my daughter.

A warm tear falls down my cheek, and I sniffle looking down at my little baby girl.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” the doctor mutters, leaving the room.

“Hey.” Mac squeezes my hand. Glancing up through unshed tears I try to keep it together.

“It’s okay, she’s all you need.”

I sob, shaking my head. “What if you fall in love with me and want to have kids one day. What if we want to give her a sister or brother?” I shrug.

A finger slides under my tear-stained face. Fierce forest burning eyes digging into mine.

“I already love you, and this little girl may not be my blood but let me tell you something about bloodlines. The heart decides what it need and wants, not blood. My brotherhood, that is my family. You and this baby, are my future and my now, none of which are my DNA. Doesn’t stop me from loving all of you.”

My wet eyelashes flutter. “You love me?”

He grins. “I do. What I know of love anyway, it’s all for you. You’re the most beautiful thing in my heart, Simone.”

I laugh like an idiot. “I love you too. Since you’ve been around, I smile more than I used to, ya know?”

His boyish charm that only I’ve gotten to see, lifts his face.

“I know,” he replies arrogantly.

Looking down at what I made, the first thing I’ve ever done right.

“You and her, you’re my salvation.” I roll my lips onto one another. I’ve run from hell and felt the heat of the flames on my neck, but it was worth it in the end. I’ve found my peace with a man that is the sexiest geek I know and would do anything for me. I have the most beautiful little girl anyone could ask for. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Mac rests his head against mine, his hand on my back.

“Mine too. Mine too.”

We sit in silence, watching our little one coo and play with her fingers.

“I need to name her,” I sniffle, remembering I haven’t found the perfect name yet.

“Catori,” Mac suggests. It’s cute, really cute actually.

Wrinkles form on my face. “Catori?” Why didn’t I think of that one?

“It’s Native American and means spirit.” I know it means spirit, but how does he know that?

“Did you look it up or something?”

“I might’ve been looking at names ever since you found out she was a girl.” He glances up at me with a boyish grin.

“I love it.” I knew he’d have the perfect name. “Catori it is.”

“You can give her my last name you know.” His suggestion nearly whispered.

My head snaps up, my eyes watering all over again. He wants to be her dad, like really be her dad.

“You want to give her your last name?”

His shoulders rise with an inhale.

“I do. I want to be her dad.” His voice firm and concise. He takes Catori from my arms and holds her close to his chest. The look in both of their eyes makes me sob. He’s so tough, but with her he appears to be a big softy.

“You do?”

“I need to be in her life just as much as I need you in my life, Pocahontas.” He glances at me, but briefly before looking back at Catori.

“I don’t even know your last name.” I silently laugh, my fingers playing with the fabric of the sheets. I know his first name is Rhett, and his nickname is Mac, but as far as I know… he’s never told anyone his last name.

“Lockhart.” I glance at him, but he doesn’t break eye contact with Catori. “My name is Rhett Lockhart.”

“Catori Lockhart,” I whisper, petting her chubby little arm. “I love it.”

And just like that, we became a family. Mac rebuilt the woman I am. Took the broken bricks and remolded them into something that resembled a strong independent building.