“Congratulations, Dad. He’s a beauty.” Struck fucking dumb, I stared down at the baby in my arms. He was roaring like a bull, with his tiny hands balled into fists as he squirmed and stretched in my arms. “Jesus,” I breathed, cradling him in my arms as my emotions got the better of me. “You’re here.” And then he opened his eyes and looked at me. And I was done. My heart no longer beat for me. For the rest of my days, it would beat entirely for the child in my arms. Fuck.
