Chapter 18: Welcome, Cole
798 Words
39 weeks.
3AM.
I woke up to water on the sheets.
And pain.
"Damien," I whispered.
He was awake instantly. "What is it?"
"I think... I think it’s time."
He didn’t panic.
He just moved.
"Selena," he called, already dialing. "Hospital. Now."
"Bag?" Selena said through the phone.
"Packed," he said, grabbing it. "Ava, breathe. I’ve got you."
---
The car ride was fast.
Too fast.
Damien held my hand.
Counted with me.
"Breathe in. Breathe out. You’re doing perfect."
At the hospital, Dr. Reyes was waiting.
"Okay Ava," she said. "Let’s meet your son."
---
Labor room. 4AM.
Pain.
So much pain.
And Damien.
He never let go of my hand.
Wiped my forehead.
Whispered in my ear.
"You’re so strong," he said. "So strong, Ava."
"I can’t," I sobbed.
"You can," he said. "For Cole. For us."
12 hours.
At noon, Dr. Reyes checked me.
"10 centimeters," she said. "It’s time."
Damien squeezed my hand.
"You’ve got this, baby," he whispered. "I’m right here."
---
"Push," Dr. Reyes said.
I did.
Screamed.
Cried.
"Again," Damien said. "Push for me."
I did.
And then.
A cry.
Loud. Angry. Perfect.
"She’s got a boy," Dr. Reyes said, smiling. "6 pounds, 8 ounces. Healthy."
They laid him on my chest.
Small.
Red.
Perfect.
Cole Damien Cole.
"Hey," I whispered, crying. "Hey, baby."
Damien was crying too.
Full on tears.
Running down his face.
"Hi buddy," he whispered, voice breaking. "Hi."
He touched Cole’s tiny hand.
Cole grabbed his finger.
Damien made a sound. Like a sob.
"Oh my God," he said. "Oh my God, Ava. He’s here."
I nodded, crying.
"He’s perfect," I said.
Damien kissed my forehead.
"You’re perfect," he said. "You did it."
---
The next hour was a blur.
Weight. Measurements.
Photos.
Nurses asking if we wanted to hold him.
Damien did first.
He sat in the chair.
I handed him Cole.
Wrapped in a blue blanket.
Damien froze.
Like he was scared to break him.
"Hey," he whispered to Cole. "Hey, little man. I’m Dad."
Cole opened his eyes.
Looked at him.
Damien cried again.
"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much."
Then he handed Cole to me.
And I understood.
This was it.
This was everything.
---
That evening, the room was quiet.
Just us.
Cole between us.
Damien was asleep in the chair.
Holding my hand.
Even in his sleep.
I watched Cole sleep.
Tiny chest rising and falling.
There was a knock.
Selena. With flowers.
And a card.
From the board.
"Welcome, Cole. Future CEO."
Damien woke up.
"Is he okay?" he asked immediately.
"He’s perfect," I said. "Just like his dad."
Damien came to the bed.
Sat next to me.
Looked at Cole.
"I’m scared," he whispered.
"Of what?"
"Of messing up," he said. "Of being a bad dad."
"You won’t," I said. "Because you already love him more than anything."
He nodded. Kissed my temple.
"I love you," he said. "Both of you."
"I love you too," I said.
---
Night 1 at home was chaos.
Crying.
Diapers.
No sleep.
At 3AM, Damien was up with him.
Walking. Rocking.
"Shh, buddy," he whispered. "Dad’s got you."
I watched from the doorway.
Big billionaire.
Holding a tiny baby.
Singing badly.
He saw me.
"Come here," he said.
I did.
Sat next to him on the rocking chair.
"He’s so small," Damien said.
"I know," I said.
"I’m so in love with you both," he whispered. "It hurts."
I leaned on him.
"Me too," I said.
---
Day 3, we took photos.
Just us.
In the studio.
Me in sweats. Damien in a t-shirt.
Cole in blue.
Damien painted something.
Stick figures again.
Me. Him. Cole.
He framed it.
Hung it in Cole’s room.
"Our first family photo," he said, smiling.
---
One week later, we had visitors.
Not press.
Not board.
Just the nurses. Selena. Dr. Reyes.
They all cried seeing Cole.
"Look at him," Dr. Reyes said. "You did good, Ava."
"We did good," I said, looking at Damien.
---
That night, after Cole was asleep,
Damien and I sat on the couch.
Exhausted.
Happy.
Whole.
"So," Damien said. "What now?"
"Now," I said. "We figure it out. Together."
"Together," he repeated.
He pulled me into his lap.
Kissed me.
Soft. Tired. Real.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too," I said.
"I love us," he said.
---
At 2AM, Cole cried.
Damien was up before me.
"Got him," he said.
I heard him in the nursery.
"Hey buddy," he whispered. "Dad’s here. What’s wrong?"
Then singing.
Off-key.
Loud.
I smiled in the dark.
This was our life now.
Messy.
Tired.
Perfect.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Not the company.
Not the money.
Not the past.
Just this.
Damien.
Cole.
Me.
A family.
- Writer
