EPILOGUE

Seven Months Later

Lucas Jason Rambally arrives in the world on a gorgeous summer afternoon in July, weighing in at eight pounds two ounces and screaming his head off. There are no less than seven people in the waiting area eager to meet him: My parents, Ty’s parents, my brothers Lee and Miles, and Grandma Naomi Cooper.

After the tragedy of Zach and Spencer, I almost suffered a miscarriage.

Zach got life in prison for murdering his twin in cold blood and is still awaiting trial for killing Jamie Reynolds and assaulting and drugging me. All this on top of the attempted murder charge for causing the accident that put Justin Tate in a coma. Thank God Justin made it.

It was all too much to handle. I finally cracked and told my parents the truth, after which they convinced Ty I shouldn’t return to school to finish out my sophomore year. I stayed with my parents and worked for Mom part-time.

Ty commuted from New Haven to Castleview every weekend that semester. He graduated Summa Cum Laude this past May. I’m so proud of him I could burst.

“Here he is,” the nurse says, smiling down at the bundle wrapped in a blue blanket. She places Lucas in my arms. Ty sits next to me. It’s the first time we both get a good look at him. The nurse goes on and on about how adorable he is and how she’s never seen a more beautiful baby in all her years on the maternity ward. Ty and I just stare at him.

Once the nurse leaves the room, we look at each other and then at Lucas and back again. I peel back the blanket slowly so I can see his entire body. I cover him up and then remove his hat. Then he opens his eyes for the first time and stares straight at us, as if he can see. I could swear he winked at us and closed his eyes again.

“His eyes are so blue, and he has brown hair. He looks just like Zach and Spencer,” Ty says.

“I know.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“You mean whether it will be a reminder of the tragedy, bring up bad memories?”

“Will it?”

My mind flashes back to Zahra’s comment, when I confessed I couldn’t go through with the abortion. Abbie, you’re thinking about becoming a mother, and you don’t know who the father is. Have you thought about what it could do to you if every time you look at the kid it triggers bad memories? Then the kid grows up with a resentful mother, and they never understand why.

I look down at Lucas, content in my arms. “He didn’t ask for this any more than I did, Ty. He’s depending on us to be his mom and dad. We’re the only parents he has. That’s all that matters now.”

“Can I hold him?” Ty asks.

“Sure, but don’t drop him.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cooper.”

“I’m only kidding. Scout’s honor.” I hold up my right hand, grinning.

Once Lucas is securely in his father’s arms, I snap a couple of photos with my phone and compose a text to Zahra, Christian, Katherine, Callie, and Frances.

(Me) Lucas is here.

I excluded Alan from the text on purpose. I’m still mad at him. His actions forever altered my life. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Only Zach and Spencer are to blame, but I can’t help but feel Alan set the whole thing in motion over twenty years ago.

After we arrive in the post-partum suite, Ty places Lucas in the bassinet next to the bed while I go to the bathroom to make myself presentable for the deluge of family members about to descend on us. I shed the hospital gown and replace it with a silk robe and then brush my hair.

When I exit the bathroom, there’s a knock on the door. Ty opens it, and they all pile into the room.

“Did everybody wash their hands?” I ask. “Nobody has a cold or any strange, contagious disease, right?”

They ignore me, as if I shouldn’t have asked, and make a beeline for the bassinet. Dr. Rambally, Ty’s dad, beats everyone to it and picks up Lucas first. They all gather around him, cooing and making baby noises. Ty is caught up in the mix, just taking it all in. Mom and Grandma Naomi come over and sit on either side of the small bed I now occupy.

“How are you, sweetheart?” Mom asks. “Are you in pain?”

“I can manage,” I say. “But I did it, Mom. With no anesthesia.”

“I know, my fearless girl.” She gives me a hug and a squeeze.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Grandma says. “You and Ty and my great-grandson will be just fine.”

“You think so, Grandma? Even with the strange familial relationships?”

“You and Ty are Lucas’s parents, period,” Mom says. “Now that Spencer is dead and Zach is in prison, Alan has no reason to admit their paternity, and no one has to know the truth.”

“But the Wheelers know,” I remind them.

“So what?” Grandma scoffs. “I don’t think they will stake any claim to Lucas if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Maybe not anything official. But I know them. They will want to be part of his life,” I insist.

“We’ll let the grandpas fight that battle,” Mom says. “Your dad has been itching to punch Alan in the face ever since this whole tragedy came to light. He swears he will never play golf with him again. He even accused Alan of cheating.”

All three of us giggle, and then Grandma Naomi gets serious. “Lucas is a lucky little boy to have so many people who love and care for him. Focus on that. The rest will work itself out.”

After Mom and Grandma Naomi leave to take their turns holding Lucas, Ty’s mother approaches. Her steps are tentative, as if she’s not sure I won’t toss her out of the room. She wears a pale-yellow sundress that creates a striking contrast against her deep-brown skin, her braided hair pulled back in a ponytail. I pat a spot next to the bed. Her shoulders sag with relief.

“I owe you a huge apology,” she begins. “It’s difficult for me, but I think it’s time I beg for your forgiveness.”

“What for?”

“The way I’ve behaved. Instead of getting to know you and understand why Tyler is crazy about you, I focused on judging you. On the few occasions we met, I was less than cordial. I’m happy to say that he got it right. But then again, he could always see what others couldn’t, including his mother.”

“Dr. Whistler, you don’t owe me an apology. I know how hard it is for parents to let go of their children or accept the decisions they make. My mother almost had a heart attack when I announced I was pregnant. My dad, he wept. That was hard to watch. So, I get where you’re coming from.”

For the first time since I’ve known her, Dr. Whistler smiles at me, a warm, genuine, sunny smile that lights up her entire face. I guess that’s her way of welcoming me to the Rambally clan.

“When Tyler explained what happened, it broke my heart,” she says. “The way you’ve handled yourself throughout all of this is admirable. You’re a courageous girl, Abbie. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife for my son. And you can call me Mom.”

I look at her sideways, and she must have sensed my skepticism. “Jenny is fine,” she says quickly. “You can call me Jenny, if that works for you.”

I give her the thumbs-up sign, and she hurries off to fawn over Lucas with the other family members. Dad immediately replaces her.

He gathers me in his arms and hugs me like he never wants to let go. When he eventually does, he says, “My precious girl, you were made to do hard things. I know that now. You make me proud to be your dad. I’ve told you that before, but it’s especially true now. We could all take a lesson in courage from you.”

“You handled this situation better than I thought you would.”

“What, you thought your old man was going to blow a gasket?”

“A big one.”

“That’s how much you know. I didn’t blow a gasket. I called Alan Wheeler and politely told him what a prick he is and that I regret that my first grandchild carries his genes.”

I look at Dad like he’s lost his mind. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. Ask your mother. She was there.”

Dad drops a kiss on top of my forehead and takes off to chat with Ty’s dad.

“Abbie, did your mother tell you about the wedding?” Jenny asks.

“What wedding?”

Grandma Naomi details the huge, blowout wedding in the works. Ty and I have no say in the matter. I guess it’s our punishment for getting married last year without telling anybody.

The family even decided on the proper wedding present in their minds. In fact, they’ve already made the purchase, and we can’t give it back. A beautiful house in Lexington, less than twenty minutes from Cambridge, so Ty can commute to Harvard. But the most incredible news? Grandma Naomi will move in with us to help take care of Lucas.

Ty plops down next to me and drapes his arm around my shoulder. We hold hands, just trying to take it all in. We had everything planned, how we would manage with a baby and his medical school, but our parents put their heads together and turned our plans upside down in the best way possible. Though our sweet boy came into the world under difficult circumstances, Grandma Naomi is right. Lucas is a lucky boy, and so are his parents.

“Abbie, a friend of mine is a dean at Boston University,” Dr. Rambally says. “If you want to consider BU to complete your degree, just say the word and I’ll talk to Eddie to make sure they take most of your credits from Yale.”

“That’s a great idea, Dad,” Ty says.

“Thank you. Maybe I could start going part-time when I’m ready. We’ll see how things go.”

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s after two in the morning. My sleep has been restless. I need to get some rest before Lucas wakes up for his feeding. I change positions a few times. Ty is sound asleep on the pullout bed. I peek in the bassinet to make sure Lucas is still there. He is. Satisfied, I give sleep another go.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but something awakens me, a strange noise. I sit up in the semi-darkness.

“Is anyone there?”

The room is quiet. I peek into the bassinet again. Lucas is gone. Panic builds inside my chest. I look across the room. Zach Rossdale is holding Lucas.

“I came for my son, Abbie,” he says. “You can’t keep him from me. He’s mine, not Rambally’s.”

“Ty is his father. He doesn’t need you. Now give him back, Zach.”

Ty pops up from his slumber. “Cooper, what’s going on?” he asks, sleepily.

“Zach wants to take Lucas,” I say heatedly. “We can’t let him get away with it.”

Someone shakes my shoulders. The voice sounds far away.

“Cooper, wake up. You’re having a nightmare. Wake up, it’s just a bad dream.”

It sounds like Ty. He’s right here. Now Zach won’t get away with it. I open my eyes and take a few seconds to adjust to the semi-dark room. Zach is gone, and Ty leans over me.

“Where’s Lucas?” My gaze bounces around the room like a lunatic.

“He’s fine,” Ty says. “He’s fast asleep.”

I get up to see for myself. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief when I see our son swaddled in a blanket, asleep on his back. Ty stands behind me.

“It wasn’t real.” He rubs my shoulders. “Just your imagination playing tricks on you.”

“It felt real. I thought Zach escaped prison and came to steal our baby.”

“That will never happen,” Ty assures me.

“Promise me,” I insist. “Promise me that Zach Rossdale will never get his hands on Lucas.”

“I promise, Cooper. I promise.”