Epilogue - Norman.

The weeks passed, and after confirmation from the doctor, they set to work decorating one of the rooms into a nursery. They went for neutral colors and gave Logan free rein to help them decorate. He had an artistic eye, and Norman loved seeing the boy come out of his shell. During the decorating of the nursery, it sank in that he was going to have a baby.

They were going to have a tiny little life in their hands. It wasn't about being a father, or for Sasha a mother, as they already felt that way for Logan. He'd spoken with Sasha about it, and she had the same thoughts and fears as he did.

Norman knew he hadn't made a mistake with Sasha. Not only did he love her, but she was a fantastic mom, and she knew exactly what to say and do to help Logan along the way. There

were moments, late at night, where he'd still have nightmares.

She never once shouted at him. Instead, she'd nurture him, and love him.

Once the nursery was complete, they went shopping, letting Logan pick some of the stuff for them.

The weeks passed, and Sasha slowly got bigger. He loved seeing his baby growing inside her. Work was just work, and he loved having Sasha with him every single day. He did have to deal with his days being turned on seeing as her pregnant state aroused him. Even though he loved it, Sasha struggled with gaining weight. One day Norman stood in the bedroom, and heard Sasha weeping in the bathroom.

Worried, he'd rushed into the bathroom to find her trying to zip up her skirt, only the two ends wouldn't fit.

"I'm so fat!" She sobbed each word out. "I can't fit in my skirt."

The books that he'd read had warned himn that women were prone to dramatics, and tears. There was also a chat room online for fathers that gave him advice on how to treat his woman that the book didn't have. For instance, if a woman complained about her weight, don't say anything. Don't ignore it, but tell her how beautiful she is.

Rub her stomach, show her attention. Norman found if he did that, the tears ebbed away. He couldn't stand her crying. She was beautiful to him, and seeing her swell with his kid was a

major turn-on.

After the skirt incident, he'd gone shopping to the maternity section, and selected the clothes that he believed she would love.

He did everything he could to show her that he loved her, and he found her newfound pregnancy weight hot. Yeah, he was a weird guy, finding his pregnant wife sexy!

With new clothes, he intended to show her exactly how sexy she was.

That night, he got her to try them on, and then in the privacy of their bedroom, he showed her how much he loved her curves, and her pregnancy.

Norman always made sure to be one step ahead after that night, and if he saw her clothes getting a little tighter, he'd change them without her noticing. He hated to see her cry, so he had to be constantly on his game. Her hormones were all over the place.

The weeks turned to months, and they got their first scan of their baby. They didn't know what sex their baby was as the little devil had turned away from the ultrasound. It didn't matter to him. He would love any child, boy or girl. Norman had fallen in love, and according to the woman doing the scan, it looked like their baby was waving to them. So, if his baby turned out to be a girl, she was shy, and maybe he wouldn't have to worry about boys when she was older.

They showed Logan the picture, and he was sure it was girl. Only girls would wave from inside the tummy. Boys would think that was lame, even as kids.

Work and life carried on, but it was different for Norman. He was happier, contented, and he'd finally found what he'd been looking for all those years in foster care, and building his

business. He had a family, not one he had to buy either. One that actually cared about him as well. Sasha's parents constantly phoned him to check in. Her father even said that he could call him Dad. That was surreal, and according to his wife, it meant her father accepted him.

Sasha got rounder, and she found it difficult to be on her feet all day. He had no choice but to hire a temporary assistant to replace her. Every time he stared out of his office door, he missed Sasha. She was advised to rest during pregnancy. At home, she started nesting, cleaning everything in sight. It didn't make him feel any happier. Whenever he could work from home, he did.

One day he came home to discover that Sasha had started to can, their basement becoming storage for a zombie apocalypse. It would have concerned him if it wasn't for the smile on her face. Also, he knew how her mother liked canning and preserving.

Christmas passed in a haze.for Norman. It really did. His first Christmas as a family, and they had her parents come to their place. Sasha and Emma worked on the biggest turkey. Christmas Eve, they went to the foster homes, dropping off food, presents, and simply filling the whole place with cheer. Her parents joined them in bringing the Christmas spirit to many.

Every single day, the love he felt for Sasha grew deeper. She had given him so much, and there was no way he could ever repay that.

On the second scan they discovered she was going to give birth to a baby girl. That was with her being five months pregnant. Another four to go.

"I can't get up now," she said when she was seven months pregnant. Her stomach was large, and the baby kicked fiercely.

Their little girl, and they were disagreeing on the name. He wanted to call her Francine Rockwell. She wanted to call her Lemon, after his favorite pie.

"Come on." He took hold of her hands, and pulled her into his arms.

"Do you still love me even though I look like a beached whale?"

"Of course. It's because of you being a beached whale that I love you." She laughed. "I did help you become this way. Remember? We both have to answer to this."

"Yeah, keep reminding the woman that you love how much you contributed to this while you still look hot, handsome, and sexy. Go on, Norman, keep telling me how lovely I look." She laughed.

"You know, I think I'm just going to say this is all your fault. I had nothing to do with your pregnancy." He cupped her hips, pulling her as close as her stomach would allow.

"She kicks all the time."

"You're tired a lot," he said.

"I know. It shouldn't be much longer."

"Sasha, if something happens..."

"Don't think like that."

"No, I want you to understand. If I have to pick between our baby, or you, I will pick you."

"Norman."

"No, I won't do it. I love you, and I'll love our baby." He'd read that problems during pregnancy can occur, but not often. He didn't want to take that chance. "You come through. I love you."

She sighed. "I love you, Norman."

He kissed her lips, pleased that he'd told her exactly how he felt. Reading books about her pregnancy had turned him into a nervous wreck. Problems could happen, and he'd read each one.

All of them had built up until he was convinced that Sasha was going to die.

Sasha ended up calling the doctor to help him calm down.

Two months later, Sasha was serving up dinner, Logan's favorite meatballs when her waters broke. Norman stood by her seeing the water. "You spill the pasta water, babe?"

"No." She put the saucepan down. "We need to go to the hospital. My waters have broken."

He'd been in the process of grating cheese into a dish. Pausing, he turned toward the woman who owned his heart. "Your waters broke."

"Yes, remember what the doctor said, there's no need to panic, or — "

"We're having a baby! Shit, fuck, the baby is coming. Logan!"

Later that night after she had given birth to a beautiful, healthy, baby girl, Norman sat beside her laughing.

"I overreacted, didn't I?"

"You screamed. It was really high pitched," she said.

Logan, who'd been in the waiting rooms with her parents, imitated the sound.

"Francine Lemon Rockwell," Sasha said. "That's what we're going to call her. Our beautiful baby girl."

There surrounded by the people he loved, and who loved him, he stared into his daughter's eyes, and knew he would protect her. She was his daughter, part of Sasha, and he'd love her for the rest of his life.

"Norman," Sasha said, whispering in his ear. "Would you like to make another one?"