My dad always says, “The days are long, but the years are short.” He means when Claire and I were growing up and how fast it all really happens, but when you’re in the thick of family life, it doesn’t feel like that. It drags on.
But I don’t feel that way.
I feel like there will never be enough time with Emma and our children. I feel like I can never make enough memories. And I feel like I don’t know where the hours in the day went when I lay my head on my pillow at night.
But I also know this is everything I’ve ever wanted.
Having grown up in a happy home with two parents who not only loved each other but doted on their children, that was the only type of family I ever dreamed of. But as I got deeper with the SEAL community and then with the police department when I came home, the darkness consumed me.
After a while, I didn’t think I would ever find my white picket fence and the woman I was meant to grow old with. And that coupled with the fact that I spent twenty-five years watching my baby sister turn into her own darkness, I began to wonder if our parents weren’t the gold standard but a rare occurrence.
And then my childhood best friend decided Claire was the one. Their path to each other was rocky, to say the least, but now they have it all. Watching it unfold and seeing them get to a solid place made me realize I wanted that too. I found the one I wanted to grow old with, but while I was drowning in my own darkness, I missed it. I fucked up the order, and it had cost me everything.
But not anymore. Emma is back in my bed and in my life, and we are building a beautiful future. Will it always be easy, smooth sailing? Absolutely not, but I wouldn’t want it that way either. It’s not real life, and what Emma and I have is as real as it gets.
And with that thought, I turn to her sleeping body and settle in to show her just how real we can be.
• • •
“Did this shit come with any instructions?” Wes growls.
“Uh oh,” Claire mumbles. “Maybe we should go order more pizza. Or buy more beer.”
“Bourbon, babe,” Wes rumbles. “This shit calls for bourbon.”
“Wes—” she starts, and I watch as Emma bites her bottom lip. I look to my feet so I won’t laugh at her reaction to Wes, but I can’t stop the smile that plays out on my face, because one, she’s cute as hell, and two, he’s not wrong. It would appear the beautiful, painted light-gray nursery furniture we picked out is not that easy to put together.
“I would even take instructions in Spanish, German maybe,” he continues to grumble. “But this is like a goddamn mime wrote it. And in fucking hieroglyphics!”
“Wes,” my sister warns.
“There are no words!” he shouts. “It’s just pictures that a monkey fucking drew!”
That’s when I lose it. I throw my head back and roar with laughter, because he’s funny as hell, and then I pull my girl into my arms and drop a kiss to her lips to soften the blow of my best friend being pissed as hell at our choice in baby furniture.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
“I heard that!” Wes snaps, making Claire laugh.
“I’m not sure we’re talking about the same man,” Emma mumbles back.
“We’ll get it built,” I promise. “Why don’t you and Claire go catch up.”
“Okay.”
“And order some pizzas?” I ask as I hand her my wallet.
“Okay.”
“And try ordering some without fruit or any other weird shit.”
“I will not promise that,” Emma snaps. “But I will try.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
Once the women left the room, I took up the instructions for the tall dresser and sent Wes to look over the crib, which proved to be much easier than the dresser—the instructions written in mime hieroglyphics.
And a few hours later, the room is filled with a heavy wooden crib, a tall dresser, and a short one with a soft pink diaper changing station on top of it. The pink floral sheet Emma picked out and I ordered is on the mattress, and a small stuffed elephant and blanket are nestled in the corner, waiting for my baby girl. Wes is hanging pictures, large pink flowers, and a giant ruler on the wall so we can measure her height as she grows. I’m hanging the long pink curtains with huge, sweeping ruffles that made my girl smile when she saw them.
“Well, I think that’s it,” Wes says as he steps back to take in the room.
“I think so too,” I agree.
“Never thought you’d be the kind of guy to have a girlie-pink baby room in your house, brother.”
“Me neither,” I agree, with what has to be a dopey smile on my face. “But I didn’t know it was everything I ever wanted.”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “I know the feeling.”
“I know you do,” I remark.
“And enough of the girl feelings bullshit,” he says, clapping his hands. “Before I start my period.”
“Thanks, asshole.” I laugh.
“Anytime, brother,” he says, slapping me on the back. “That’s what I’m here for. Time to show your lady.”
“Yeah.”
“Emma, Claire!” he shouts. “Show time!”
“Classy as always,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“What?” he prompts with a chuckle. “It works.”
“What is it?” Claire asks, sounding a little worried, but it’s Emma’s reaction I’m looking for, and she does not disappoint.
Her beautiful face softens, and she whispers, “Oh my God.” I know it’s everything she’s ever wanted, and my chest burns with pride, because I am the man who gets to be the one to provide that for her. I am one lucky bastard and I know it.
“Come here,” I tell her, my voice gruff with emotion, and again, she does not disappoint when she walks straight into my arms and I hold her tight to me.
“We’ll just be uhh…” Claire trails off.
“We’re going to put these tools away and give you guys a moment,” Wes fills in.
“Yeah, that,” Claire agrees, and I don’t even nod to acknowledge them. I only have eyes for Emma.
“Do you like it, honey?” I ask her quietly.
“Is the Pope Catholic?”
“Are you happy?”
“This is the happiest I have ever been in my entire life,” Emma admits, and I can’t help but place a soft kiss on her lips.
“Grateful I’m the man who gave that to you,” I tell her.
“You’ve given me everything, Lee,” she says as tears fill her eyes.
“No tears,” I order gently. “You’re the one who’s given me everything I ever wanted.”
“I’m glad, baby,” she whispers before clearing her throat. “Now, we better go find your sister before she has too much time to snoop around the house.”
“That’s unfortunately true,” I agree.
And Emma and I walk hand in hand through the hall and down the stairs, but Claire isn’t snooping, something we both know she loves to do. Claire and Wes are standing in the living room with a giant pink bow on a well-worn and slightly battered bassinet.
“Is that—?” I ask.
“The Goodnite bassinet our Grandpa Goodnite made before you were born?” Claire asks.
“Yeah, that.”
“Then yes, it is,” she says with a smile.
“You don’t want it?” I question. “I figured you’d use it.”
“Wes and I agree you guys need a little family love to start you off right,” she says gently before changing her tone, because my sister is not comfortable with outward displays of emotion. “Besides, all the baby books say twins need to be in the same crib, and this isn’t big enough.”
“Of course,” I murmur before pulling my sister into my arms. “You’re the best sister I could ever ask for.”
“Well, obviously,” she says, but even though she tries to hide it, I can hear the sniffle as she cries. One look at her overprotective husband, and I can see he hears it too, so I pass her off to his care and he wraps her up in his arms. “God, these hormones are a real bitch.”
“Sure, baby,” he says to her. “You show them what a real badass you are.”
“Sleep with one eye open, O’Connell,” she snaps, pulling away from him.
“You know I’d rather sleep dick-deep in you, baby,” he growls.
“All right, well this has been real fun, and I appreciate your help, brother,” I say, clapping my hands. “But there is no sexy talk about my sister in my house, so get the fuck out.”
Emma just laughs before hugging Claire. “Thank you,” she whispers to my sister.
“Of course,” Claire says with a wink, and then the door closes behind them and they’re gone.
“Happy?” I ask, pulling my girl back into my arms.
“Yes.”
“How happy?” I ask, letting her see the heat in my eyes.
“Very,” she answers.
“Then why don’t you take me upstairs and show me just how happy you are? I suggest.
She clears her throat before answering. “I suppose I could do that.”
“You suppose?”
“Why don’t you follow me and find out?”
And then she takes my hand in hers and leads me upstairs to do just that.