Epilogue

The world is different now.

Not in the way that everything outside this hospital room has changed, people are still rushing through their lives, traffic is still blaring down city streets, and the sky outside is still the same shade of blue it was yesterday. But for me, everything has shifted. Tilted on its axis.

Katherine Baldwin-Crawford.

I exhale a slow breath, trying to absorb the sheer reality of it, but it's impossible. My heart has never held this much before, never known what it's like to love something so instantly, so fiercely, so unconditionally.

She's impossibly small, wrapped snugly in the softest white blanket, her tiny face relaxed in deep sleep. Her dark lashes rest against her cheeks, and every now and then, she makes the faintest little sounds, nothing more than soft sighs, breaths so delicate they barely exist.

And just like me, just like her Mama, she's intersex.

The doctors told us earlier, their voices careful, measured, like they weren't sure how we'd react. But when Juliet looked at me, her fingers already wrapped tightly around mine, there was no hesitation, no fear, just the same unwavering certainty she's always had.

"She's perfect," she'd said, as if it were the simplest truth in the world. And it is.

Because she is.

Our daughter, our little Katherine, is exactly as she's meant to be. No less, no different, no anything except ours.

And as I look at her now, so impossibly small, so full of potential, of life, of everything still waiting for her, I feel it, this unshakable, immovable love, this fierce, unrelenting need to make sure she knows, every single day of her life, that she is whole. That she is enough. That she will never, ever have to question that.

Not with us.

Not in this family.

I exhale, brushing my thumb over the soft curve of her cheek, my chest tight, my heart brimming with something too big to name.

"She's perfect," I whisper.

Juliet, resting beside me, reaches out, her fingers feather-light as she touches Katherine's cheeks.

"She always will be," she murmurs, and when she looks at me, I know she means it.

I nod, swallowing against the lump in my throat, because yeah, she will be.

My wife, my love, looks exhausted and beautiful all at once, her golden hair fanned out against the hospital pillow, her eyes heavy but still trained on our daughter. She hasn't stopped looking at her since the nurse placed her in her arms.

My throat tightens as I watch them.

"I still can't believe you won," I murmur, voice hoarse from everything, the emotions, the sleepless hours, the sheer gravity of this moment.

Juliet doesn't even glance at me. She knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"You fought hard," she admits, a quiet smirk playing at the edges of her lips. "I'll give you that."

I huff, leaning my elbows onto my knees, rubbing a hand over my face. "Juliet, I argued. I debated. I laid out at least three very valid reasons why naming her after my mother would be a terrible idea."

"And I listened to all of them," she hums, finally turning to look at me, eyes soft but determined. "And I ignored them."

I groan, tipping my head back against the chair. "You never let me win."

There's silence for a moment, just the steady beeping of the monitor, the sound of Katherine's quiet breaths, the kind of stillness that holds weight, meaning.

Juliet's hand finds mine, fingers weaving together. "She would've been so proud of you."

I swallow the lump in my throat and squeeze back. "I hope so."

Juliet lifts our daughter slightly, tilting her toward me. "Here," she says gently. "Hold her."

I freeze.

I have faced down injuries, brutal losses, high-stakes matches. I have lived through things I never thought I'd come back from. And yet, nothing—nothing—has ever scared me the way holding her does.

"Jules," I murmur, throat tight. "I might drop her."

Juliet lifts a brow. "Ellie. You tackle grown men for a living. You can hold a seven-pound baby."

I hesitate for half a second longer, but then Juliet shifts forward, and suddenly, the tiny, warm weight is in my arms.

She's so small.

Delicate, breakable, perfect.

I adjust my hold, cradling her closer, and my heart stumbles in my chest when she makes the softest sound, her little face scrunching up for half a second before relaxing again.

Jesus. I am never letting anything happen to her.

I stare down at her.

"I don't even know how to explain this." I murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

Juliet sit up against the pillows, watching us.

"You don't have to," she says softly. "I know."

I don't take my eyes off Katherine. My daughter. My baby.

God.

"I love her so much already," I say, almost to myself, still in disbelief.

Juliet smiles. "Yeah, baby. Me too."

I press the lightest kiss to Katherine's forehead, inhaling the soft, sweet scent of her skin, something that already smells like home.

Juliet shifts again, trying to get comfortable against the hospital pillows, but I see the way she winces, the exhaustion lining her features. She's been through so much today, her body pushed beyond its limits, and yet, all of her focus is on Katherine.

I glance down at our daughter, still tucked safely in my arms, still impossibly small and warm, and then back at my wife, the strongest person I know.

"Jules," I murmur, keeping my voice soft. "You need to rest."

She shakes her head immediately, eyes still fixed on our daughter. "I'm fine."

I arch a brow. "You just gave birth, Juliet."

Her lips twitch, but she sighs, tilting her head back against the pillow. "I know. I just..." Her gaze drifts back to Katherine, and I see it—the raw emotion, the sheer weight of it all settling into her chest. "I don't want to miss a second of this."

I love her so much.

Gently, I shift Katherine into one arm, freeing my other hand to cup Juliet's face, my thumb brushing along her cheek. "You're not going to miss anything," I promise. "You've done enough for today. Let me take care of you."

Juliet blinks up at me. "You always do," she whispers.

I smile, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, well, it's kind of my thing."

She exhales a quiet, tired laugh, but it fades as she watches me.

"I don't know if I'll be good at this," she admits, voice barely above a whisper.

I frown, my hand still cradling her face. "What?"

"This," she gestures weakly toward our daughter. "Being a mom. I don't know how to—" She exhales, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at me again. "What if I'm not enough?"

The sheer weight of her words, of that fear, wraps around my ribs and squeezes.

I set Katherine carefully in the bassinet beside Juliet's bed, making sure she's safe, and then, without hesitation, I move closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands framing Juliet's face.

"Hey," I murmur, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Look at me."

She does, her lips parting, her eyes glassy with emotion.

"You are already the best mother, Juliet," I say, firm and unwavering. "She hasn't even been here for a full day, and I've already watched you love her with everything you have. I've seen the way you look at her, the way you reach for her without even thinking, like it's instinct, like it's always been there. You are going to be amazing at this, because you are amazing."

Juliet swallows, blinking rapidly, like she's trying to hold back the flood of emotion.

"I mean it," I continue, my voice softer now, my hands slipping down to thread our fingers together. "You're strong, you're kind, you love harder than anyone I've ever met. And this little girl?" I glance at Katherine, my chest aching. "She is so damn lucky to have you."

Juliet lets out a shaky breath, squeezing my hands so tightly it's like she's holding on for dear life.

"You really think so?" she asks, so quietly I almost miss it.

I nod, not even hesitating. "I know so."

She inhales sharply, and then, without warning, she tugs me forward, burying her face in my shoulder. Her arms wrap around me, clinging.

I hold her tightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her head.

"I've got you, baby," I whisper. "I've always got you."

She nods against me, exhaling, and I feel her shoulders shake slightly, just for a moment.

We sit there like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the only sound in the room the soft, steady breathing of our daughter.

Eventually, Juliet looks up at me, her lips curving faintly.

"You're really sappy when you want to be," she murmurs.

I grin, brushing my nose against hers. "Only for you."

She hums, her hands still curled into the fabric of my shirt. "And for her."

I glance at Katherine, warmth flooding my chest. "Yeah," I murmur. "And for her."

Juliet studies me for a moment longer before leaning up, brushing the softest, sweetest kiss against my lips.

"I love you," I whisper against her lips.

She cups my cheek, her thumb stroking gently along my skin. "I love you more."

I huff a quiet laugh. "Impossible."

She smirk, nudging her forehead against mine. "You'll just have to trust me."

"I do."

I press another kiss to her temple before easing back, brushing her hair out of her face. "Now, close your eyes," I murmur. "Rest. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Juliet sighs, like she wants to argue, but her body is already betraying her, exhaustion weighing heavy in her limbs.

"Fine," she relents, her voice soft.

I smile, watching as her eyes flutter shut, her breathing evening out.

I glance at our daughter once more, at this perfect little human we made, and my heart swells so full I don't know how to contain it.

Our family.

My family.

-

The years pass in the blink of an eye.

One moment, Katherine is a tiny, fragile thing, barely able to open her eyes, and the next, she's a whirlwind of energy, laughter, and endless curiosity. Every day with her is something new, something wonderful, something exhausting, something I wouldn't trade for the entire world.

She is everything.

- 7 months old.

Katherine is sitting up on her own now, wobbly, a little unsteady, but determined as hell.

Juliet and I are on the floor with her, pillows stacked all around for safety, watching as she balances, her tiny hands curled into fists, her face scrunched up in concentration.

"She gets that face from you," I murmur, nudging Juliet's side.

Juliet hums, amused. "What face?"

I mimic it, the little furrow between her brows, the tight press of her lips.

Juliet rolls her eyes, shoving me lightly. "That is not my face."

Katherine suddenly wobbles forward, falling into Juliet's lap with a little squeak. Juliet catches her instantly, laughing as she scoops her up, pressing kisses all over her chubby cheeks.

"She is so dramatic," I tease, watching the way Katherine lets out a delighted squeal at all the attention.

Juliet raises a brow. "She is your daughter."

I grin. "Yeah. She is."

Katherine coos, reaching up with her tiny fingers, wrapping her whole hand around Juliet's nose.

Juliet gasps. "Oh, so that's how it is?"

Katherine giggles.

My heart stumbles. God, I love them.

- One year old.

She takes her first steps in the living room.

One moment she's gripping the couch, holding on tight with unsteady hands, and the next, she's letting go, her little legs wobbling as she takes two, then three steps toward me.

Juliet gasps beside me, clutching my arm. "Ellie—"

I barely hear her.

I'm already on my knees, arms outstretched, ready to catch her if she falls. "Come on, baby girl," I whisper, my chest tight, my hands shaking. "You've got this."

Katherine's face is scrunched up in pure focus, her tiny lips parted in determination, and then, one more step.

She stumbles right into me.

I catch her, scooping her up instantly, pressing her against my chest as I let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "You did it," I murmur into her hair. "You did it."

Juliet's wiping at her eyes. "She's going to be running in no time."

Katherine makes a proud little noise, her tiny hand patting my cheek like she knows she's just done something incredible.

I press a kiss to her forehead, my heart nearly bursting.

- Three years old.

Katherine is talking now.

Well, mostly.

Her words are half-formed, her sentences a little jumbled, but she is opinionated.

She sits on my lap in the kitchen, holding a spoon in one tiny hand as she watches me stir the pancake batter.

"Want help," she says, nodding firmly, as if she's already decided.

Juliet snorts from across the counter. "You just want to eat the batter."

Katherine gasps, scandalized. "Nooo."

I grin, handing her a small spoonful. "Are you sure?"

She takes it happily, stuffing it in her mouth.

Juliet sighs, shaking her head. "You're enabling her."

I shrug. "She's cute."

Katherine hums, satisfied, then leans in close to whisper conspiratorially, "More, dada?"

Katherine hums, satisfied, then leans in close to whisper conspiratorially, "More, Dada?"

I freeze.

Juliet, across the counter, also stills, her stirring spoon pausing mid-air as she turns to look at me, amusement flickering in her expression.

I blink, glancing down at Katherine, who is staring up at me expectantly, her dark eyes wide with innocence, like she didn't just drop the biggest bombshell of my day.

"Uh," I manage, my brain stalling. "Where'd you get that from?"

Katherine blinks, like it's the dumbest question in the world. "You're Dada," she states simply, like it's a fact of the universe. Like the sky is blue, like pancakes are delicious, like this has always been the truth.

Juliet is full-on grinning now, clearly enjoying my short-circuiting.

"I—" I glance at Juliet helplessly, then back down at my daughter. "But—baby, I'm Mommy."

Katherine tilts her head, considering, before shaking her head firmly. "No. Mommy is Mama." She points at Juliet. "You're Dada."

I glance at Juliet again. "Do you hear this?"

Juliet shrugs, fighting back laughter. "I mean... she's kind of got a point."

I scowl. "How?"

Juliet leans forward, resting her chin on her palm. "Think about it. You're the one who chases her around the house. You teach her all the cool sports moves. You throw her in the air like she weighs nothing. You're the one she calls when she wants to wrestle."

I blink. "...So?"

Juliet smirks. "So, baby, you are the definition of a dad."

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. "Great. I'm the dad."

Katherine beams like she just won something. "Dada."

Juliet snickers. "Oh yeah, that's sticking."

I groan again, but when I look down at Katherine, at the way she's grinning up at me, so confident in her little world, so sure that this is right, something in my chest softens.

"Dada," she says again, quieter, sweeter, wrapping her tiny arms around me.

I sigh, defeated, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Fine," I grumble. "Dada it is." For now.

Katherine cheers, and Juliet downright cackles.

I scowl at my wife. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Juliet winks, stealing a piece of my pancake. "Oh, Dada, I'm thrilled."

- Five years old.

Katherine is fast.

I don't know when she got so fast, but she's sprinting across the park, tiny legs pumping, giggling wildly as I chase her.

"Daddy's gonna catch you," I call, grinning as I pick up speed.

She shrieks, veering left, but I'm quicker, scooping her up and spinning her around.

She cackles. "Noooo!"

Juliet watches from the bench, shaking her head fondly. "She's just like you."

I plop Katherine down, pretending to groan in defeat. "You win, kid."

Katherine stands proudly, hands on her hips. "Fastest ever."

I ruffle her hair. "Yeah, baby. You are."

Juliet smiles, holding her arms open. "Come here, champion."

Katherine races into her arms, giggling as Juliet presses kisses to her temple.

I watch them, my heart full, my world settled.

- Seven years old.

Katherine is in bed, curled up under her blankets, dark lashes resting against her cheeks.

I sit on the edge of her bed, running my fingers through her hair, humming softly.

Juliet leans in the doorway, watching, smiling.

"She's growing up too fast," I whisper.

Juliet sighs, stepping forward, brushing her fingers through my hair. "I know."

I exhale, brushing a kiss to Katherine's forehead. "I just want to keep her little forever."

Katherine stirs slightly, half-asleep, mumbling, "Love you, Mama. Love you, Mommy."

I swallow, glancing down at our daughter, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of my hoodie, her sleepy voice still echoing in my head.

Mama.

Not Dada.

I don't know why it hits me so hard. Maybe it's because I spent years being Dada, because I got so used to it, because that little nickname became a part of me, stitched into the fabric of my heart. Maybe it's because I never expected her to stop calling me that, not really.

I exhale slowly, my other hand resting on her back. "She called me mama." I murmur, still processing it, still letting the weight of it settle into my chest.

Juliet hums, leaning in just enough to brush a kiss against my temple. "She's growing up, baby."

I nod, but something about it aches, just a little.

Katherine shifts again, tucking herself deeper into my hold, her tiny voice softer this time. "Love you, mama."

And just like that, the ache disappears.

I let out a quiet laugh, brushing a hand through her curls. "Love you more, sweetheart."

Juliet watches me, her gaze warm, knowing, as if she can see the exact moment my heart melts completely.

I look at our daughter, her tiny fingers curled into Juliet's shirt, her face relaxed in sleep, safe, loved.

No matter how many years pass, no matter how much she grows, she will always be ours little girl.

After making sure Katherine is asleep, tucked safely under her blankets. Juliet and I move through the living room, picking up the remnants of the day, forgotten toys, an abandoned coloring book, a juice box left on the coffee table.

Juliet bends down to grab a stray marker, her movements slow, tired but graceful. I watch her for a second, just admiring, before turning my attention to the blanket draped over the back of the couch, folding it lazily.

"You know," I muse, tossing a stray pillow back onto the sectional, "I'm still not over the fact that you stole my pancakes this morning."

Juliet huffs a laugh, not looking up. "You're still on that?"

"Yes." I straighten, tossing the blanket onto the couch. "You stole from your wife. Betrayed me, even."

Juliet tilts her head, a smirk dancing at the edges of her lips. "Dramatic."

I scoff. "You're lucky I love you."

She hums, stepping closer, her fingers grazing over the edge of the coffee table. "I am lucky."

I pause, arching a brow. "That was suspiciously easy."

She lifts a shoulder. "I just like when you admit it."

I narrow my eyes. "You're playing me."

Her smirk deepens. "Maybe."

I step forward, closing the space between us, my hands settling lightly on her waist. "That's not fair."

Her eyes flick up to mine, amusement flickering in the dim light. "What's not fair?"

I tighten my grip, tugging her in just enough for our bodies to brush. "You. Being this confident. Knowing exactly how to get to me."

Juliet exhales a quiet laugh, resting her hands on my chest. "I've had years of practice."

I tilt my head, trailing my nose along the curve of her jaw, breathing her in. "And here I thought marriage would humble you."

She hums, her fingers tightening slightly against the fabric of my shirt. "You married me knowing exactly what you were getting into."

I grin, pressing the lightest kiss just beneath her ear. "That I did."

I hear the softest sigh leave her lips.

I press another kiss, softer this time, just below her jaw. "You good?" I murmur, teasing.

She exhales, barely above a whisper. "You are so annoying."

I smirk against her skin. "You married me."

She sighs, tilting her head back just enough for our eyes to meet. "Yeah," she murmurs, her voice dropping, softer now. "I did."

Her fingers slip up, trailing along my collar before resting at the back of my neck, pulling me in.

I go willingly.

Our lips brush, a lingering press that sends warmth spreading through my chest, curling around my ribs, tightening in my stomach.

Juliet sighs against me, her body melting into mine, her fingers tangling in my hair. I tighten my hold on her waist, deepening the kiss just slightly, enough to draw out a quiet sound from her throat.

I pull her down with me onto the couch, my hands firm on her waist, guiding her effortlessly into my lap. She straddles me without hesitation, her arms looping around my neck as our lips collide again, deeper this time, more insistent.

Juliet exhales against my mouth, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging just enough to send heat spiraling through me. I groan, my grip on her tightening, my hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, fingertips brushing over the warm skin of her back.

She shivers.

I smirk against her lips, trailing my hands higher, tracing the familiar curves of her body.

"You're insatiable," she murmurs, her breath warm as she kisses the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, her lips pressing a slow, teasing path down my neck.

I exhale, my head tipping back slightly, giving her more access.

She hums, dragging her teeth lightly over my pulse before soothing the spot with her tongue. A shiver runs down my spine, my grip on her tightening as heat coils low in my stomach.

"Juliet," I breathe, my voice hoarse, raw.

She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, her gaze dark. Her fingers trail down my chest, her nails scraping lightly over the fabric of my shirt.

I can't take it.

I surge forward, capturing her mouth with mine, kissing her like I need her to breathe. She gasps softly against me, her body molding into mine, her fingers slipping beneath the collar of my shirt, desperate for more contact.

I shift, laying her back against the couch, my body pressing into hers, my hands exploring, memorizing, relearning every inch of her.

She lets out a quiet moan, her back arching, her breath coming quicker now.

I want to take my time.

I want to savor every sound she makes, every reaction I pull from her, every way her body responds to mine.

But Juliet has never been patient.

She tugs at my shirt, frustration flashing in her eyes, and I chuckle breathlessly, pulling back just enough to yank it over my head.

"Better?" I tease, leaning down to press a kiss to her collarbone.

She hums, her fingers tracing the lines of my stomach before dragging me down to her again. "Shut up and kiss me."

I do.

And for the rest of the night, the only thing that exists is her.

•Author's note:

Well this is the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who read both my books. I appreciate all your comments and read every single one of them❤️❤️❤️

I will inform you guys when the first chapter of Katherine's book is released. Anyway, much love 🫶🏼🫶🏼