NICK CLOSED THE door behind the midwife and went back into the family room, where Liv was curled up on the sofa in her towelling robe with the baby asleep in her arms.
‘Cup of tea?’ he asked, but she shook her head.
‘I’m going to drown if I drink any more tea. Come and sit here and admire your daughter.’
She shifted her feet out of the way, then plonked them back on his lap as he sat down.
‘Happy?’ she asked him, and he gave a tired laugh.
‘Yes, my darling, I’m very happy. A teeny bit stressed, but I might have known you’d want to be different.’
‘I didn’t plan a home birth. She was just in a hurry.’
‘And I was in a clinic. I only got here by the skin of my teeth. I’m an obstetrician, for goodness sake, and I didn’t even realise you were going into labour.’
‘I’m a midwife. It’s all I deal with, and I didn’t recognise the signs. We’re both rubbish.’
‘No, we’re not. We’re amazing. Look at her. How could two rubbish people create anything as amazing as that?’
‘Want a cuddle?’
He reached over and took the baby from her, staring down into her dainty, screwed up little face with its tiny button nose and rosebud lips. ‘She’s so perfect—such a miracle.’ He looked up and met Liv’s eyes and tried to smile, but it was too hard so he gave up.
‘Have I told you lately how much I love you?’
‘Only a million or so times.’ She sat up with a little wince and put her arms around him and kissed him. ‘But don’t stop. I’ll never get tired of hearing it.’
‘I love you,’ he said softly, and then propped his feet up on the coffee table, right over the tiny mark that he’d wiped clean, and rested his head back against the sofa and smiled at her.
Life had never felt so good…
* * * * *