The second Laura places him on Sienna’s chest, he goes quiet. His tiny hand opens and closes against her skin. Sienna starts crying.
Then I do.
He is small. So impossibly small.
Yet the moment his skin touches hers, she feels his love for her beyond desire. I feel it in my bones, my urge to protect my husband and Callum.
My son.
Tears burn my eyes. I drop to my knees beside the bed, unable to stay standing. My hand trembles as I reach out and touch his back. He’s warm. Alive. Real.
“Sienna…” My voice cracks completely. “He’s here.”
She laughs through exhausted tears, cradling our son with a fierce gentleness that steals what little breath I have left. “Callum,” she whispers. “Our Callum.”
I lean in and press my forehead to hers, then to the top of our son’s head. His scent—milk, ne
