Four Weeks Later

The storm outside blows heavy and loud as Theo and I walk out of the baby’s room hand in hand.

“Has there ever been anything more angel-like on the face of the earth?” His grin is goofy as we make the short trip down the hall to our bedroom.

“Absolutely not. How is she so perfect?” I respond, clasping his hand in mine.

Theo flops down onto our bed, removing his shirt as he crawls toward the pillows. “I will say though, that kid has more energy than that bunny in the battery commercials. I’m exhausted.”

The thunderstorm outside cracks the sky wide open, bathing the cottage in a split second of white light. The rain crashes down, and I go to the window, flinging open the curtains so we can watch the rain, before moving back over to the bed.

“Welcome to my world. Tomorrow, I’m going to go to the job site and you can stay home with the tiny boss.” I follow him up the bed, snuggling into his chest.

Those strong arms wrap around me, and I stroke the ends of his beard. “We get it, you’re super mom. Tell us something we don’t know.

The last month has been filled with diaper changes and lullabies. Baths and cradle cap and learning how to breastfeed and trying to overcome the new zombie-like state of sleeplessness that Nicole warned would last until the kid was eighteen.

Two days ago, we broke ground on the land Theo bought us. Building our dream home is probably going to take the better part of a year, but we’re in no rush. Our little family is perfectly at home in the cottage, and the weather has started to warm enough for me to take walks over to the site while Theo is working, of course with Dorian strapped to my chest.

I work, when the baby naps, from the tiny office space we carved out in the kitchen nook. In the past month, Theo and I have landed two more projects, besides our own, and we stand to make a pretty penny when all is said and done. My husband has also been building some furniture, and when I say the stuff is gorgeous, it’s an understatement. With all of the connections he has on the island, he’s been selling them in the local shops and buyers are starting to custom order pieces.

Although Nantucket was somewhat isolated, we had our island family. All of the people who’d watched Theo grow up, and those who’d loved his parents, had adopted me into their little family. Nicole came to visit often; we were trying to make Odie and Dorian best friends. We’d make it happen. And while my father never really did come around, my mother was in touch. My brothers had even come out to meet my daughter, which was a big show of effort from them.

It feels strange that our ship righted itself so thoroughly. There was a point there where I didn’t know if I, let alone we, would ever make it through the storm. The path for Theo and me to get here had been tough … so tough that some days I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep my head above water. But lying here now, I knew that the cliché about what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger was completely true.

The life I’d always dreamed of living was the exact place I existed in now.

“You know what Dr. Katz told me today?” I snuggle into Theo, the sound of the rain rattling the windows.

“What’s that?” He hums into my hair, his fingers stroking slowly up and down my arm.

“I’m fully cleared.”

That gets his attention. My husband shoots straight up in bed, jostling me and the pillows behind us. “What does that mean?”

Laughter bubbles through me. “Oh, you know … I can exercise, drive—”

“Sex? We can have sex?” His expression is all business.

I play coy, smirking. “Oh, you want to have sex? Well, yeah, I guess the doctor did say I was okay to do that.”

Theo wastes no time climbing on top of me and cradling my head in his hands. “Oh my God, I missed you. We are going to do it all night.”

“Do it, how romantic.” I giggle sigh as his lips tease my earlobe.

His mouth does cruel, teasing things to my neck, collarbone and jaw before he rises onto his elbows, looking down at me.

“I am so in love with you, Imogen Walsh. Thank you for creating this life with me. Thank you for being strong enough to weather every storm that was thrown at us. I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”

Then he’s kissing me, silencing the words I was going to say back. Not that I mind … I’ve been waiting for this clearance just as long as he has.

All I was going to tell him, though, was that I had him beat. He might be the luckiest man on the planet, but I was the luckiest person.

And as the storm raged on outside, I made love to my husband. Down the hall from my daughter. In the house we fell in love in, on the island that had brought us to each other.

Yes, I was definitely the luckiest person on the planet.