“She’s already started dieting. She sent me progress shots.”
“Dieting? There’s nothing to lose.” Ming-Ming is so thin that I actually worry about her at times. “Besides, isn’t she only twenty-nine? That gives her another year.”
“Perfection can’t be achieved overnight, she said. And she’s right. This perfect life of ours”—she places a hand over my heart—“it took us a decade.”
“Because I was a stubborn idiot.”
“You mean a gorgeous and brilliant idiot.” She giggles. “And, um…right now it’s just the two of us, but soon…” She takes my hand and places it on her belly.
The world seems to come to a halt. “Wait… You’re pregnant?”
“Uh-huh. Found out last week.”
Joy bursts in my heart, making me almost dizzy. Then comes a spark of anxiety. “Why didn’t you say something? Is it okay for you to fly for so long?”
She laughs. “I’m fine. Dr. Silverman cleared everything. You know she’s the best doctor I can have, don’t you?”
I nod. If Liza trusts her, that’s good enough for me.
Liza smiles. “Congratulations, Mr. King. Soon, you’re going to be a father.”
“Thank you, Mrs. King,” I say solemnly, loving the sound of that. Mrs. King—my wife.
And I was wrong when I thought her saying yes to my proposal would make me the luckiest and happiest man alive. Every day she finds a way to make me feel luckier and happier.
I pull her down for a kiss.
Chapter Forty-Six
Dominic
Seven months, two weeks and four days later, Liza delivers a healthy baby boy. She lies in bed, drenched and exhausted, and I swear I’ve never seen her more beautiful.
Of course, every one of our relatives and friends shows up. Ev
eryone oohs and aahs and leaves enough flowers to stock a florist’s shop. Even Tolyan gives the baby a smile.
Liza’s parents don’t show, which is for the best. Nothing sucks the joy out of a room faster than those two. The flowers would probably wilt.
After what feels like forever, all the visitors are finally gone, and it’s just me and Liza and our tiny sleeping son in her arms. I sit on the bed and brush my fingers over fine strands of hair on his head. “He’s so small,” I whisper.
“He’ll be as big as his daddy when he grows up,” she whispers back with a tired smile.
“Have you decided on a name?”
“Yes,” she says. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to call him Thomas.”
“That’s a great name.” It’s only right we pay homage to Eliza’s grandfather, who raised her to be the amazing person that she is. I place a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For the most perfect child any man could ask for.”
She smiles. “He really is perfect, isn’t he? Absolutely worth the morning sickness and cankles.”
My chest full, I say, “I’m trying to think of a present to give you, but nothing could equal this baby.”
“You’ve already given me what I treasure the most—your heart. And after that, I knew there was only going to be one ending to our story.”