“There is too. My word, what is it with the male gender and things with wheels. I swear it makes you lose 75 percent of your brain cells,” I gripe.

“Surely not 75 percent,” Landon jests. “Maybe like 55 percent, but definitely not as high as seventy-five.”

I roll my eyes. Landon swirls the wheelchair. “It’s either I wheel you out or I go get a nurse to, but it’s hospital policy you got to go in a chair.”

I let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s ridiculous. I have two perfectly good legs that can carry me just fine.”

I get up and sit in the chair. Landon picks a sleeping Cahal up from his bassinet by the bed and gently places him in my arms. He straps the diaper bag and my overnight bag on the back of the chair before pushing us toward the exit. The car is waiting for us outside the hospital doors. I do not know how Landon managed to leave it there unattended and it is not moved.

Landon secures Cahal in his car seat while I hop up in the front seat. Once Landon is settled in the driver seat, I start to panic. “Are you sure his seat is secure? His seat belt is not too tight, is it? Can he breathe? Why can’t I hear him?” I turn in my seat to inspect our son.

“He’s fine, Beagchaithnini sneachta,” Landon assures me. He reaches out to grab my hand. “He’s going to be fine.” He kisses the inside of my palm. “I promise.”

A warm gushy feeling fills me at his words. A sense of peace fills me at his words. Almost assurance. I know without a shadow of a doubt that this man would love and protect our child. With this knowledge, I know that it was okay to leave. Tonight, I thought. I will go tonight.

Landon

Brooke is quiet on the ride home. She seemed to sleep a lot in the hospital, but the doctor said that was normal. Said that birth was quite traumatic for the body and can take a bit to recover from. I make a mental note to make sure she takes a nap today.

“I have a surprise for you.” I say as we entered the house.

Brooke’s face scrunched up in confusion. “A surprise?”

I nod my head. “It’s upstairs.” I scoop Cahal out of his car seat carrier, cradling him in my arms as we climb the stairs.

I lead Brooke down the hall to the bedroom that is across from ours. “You ready?” I ask, my hand resting on the doorknob.