《Begin Again》iii. bonus scene
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because i miss evie & miles so much and i want to thank you all for 10k reads. that's insane, i never thought this story would reach so many people in the way that it has. you guys are amazing g, i love you. so, without further ado, here's a fun lil scene of my favorite couple right after evie gives birth :)
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if every waking moment of my day is now consumed with shrill screams and foul-smelling diapers.
Motherhood is a job that unfortunately doesn't come with a training week or an in-depth handbook. The entire nine months of my pregnancy were filled with me spending hours upon hours trying to research what the fuck I was supposed to be doing. It was nights falling asleep at my computer, desperately trying to understand how exactly my life was about to change.
But, in that hospital room, Miles gripping onto my hand as we heard the first cries of our baby, all of my nerves seemed to dissipate. Sage Lively was born in the wee hours of the morning, after six hours of intense labor, and thirty minutes of pushing. He has tufts of midnight hair that curl around his head and eyes the shade of freshly melted chocolate.
He's perfect.
All I have to do is love him, and in that hospital room, I knew that wouldn't be a problem at all.
He's only been in this world for two days, and he has already consumed every space in my heart. As I stare down at his sleeping face, rocking him back and forth as I pace the small interior of the kitchen, I wonder if there is a love greater than this.
"You want me to take him?" I turn to see Miles leaning against the wall, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he stares at Sage and me. His hair has grown out considerably, and he's even sporting a little five o'clock shadow, courtesy of the sleepless lifestyle we are now living, which leaves us no time to cater to our own needs.
I shake my head. "You should sleep, you look exhausted."
Miles pushes himself off of the wall, walking towards me. "I could say the same for you." I snort. I'm sure my hair looks as if a rat has been sleeping soundly in it. My clothes have been the same as the day before, and I'm sure if my head hit the pillow now, I'll be out like a light.
I feel Miles move to stand behind me, his lips coasting over my shoulder blade as he rests his head on the nape of my neck. We are both just staring at our son. The miracle of life that somehow we've created, and somehow managed to not fuck up.
"He has your nose," Miles mumbles, reaching his finger down and tracing over the small button nose on Sage's face.
I can't help the fond smile that tugs on my lips as I take a peek at Miles from over my shoulder. "He has your lips."
Miles hums, his dimples deepening as he tries to conceal the large grin that threatens to come through. "You know I'm proud of you, right? That entire labor–holy hell, you're strong as ever for that."
I shake my head, a few stray curls falling from my lackluster bun. I lean against Miles' chest as he rubs small circles on my shoulders, being careful as to not disturb Sage. It hadn't been easy. The contractions hurt like hell, and at one point, I was sure I'd have to give up. But Miles was right by my side, holding my hand with so much fervor and intensity, giving me the strength to continue. It wasn't just the birth, though, but the whole nine months.
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Miles was there for the mood swings, the periods of intense anxiety that crippled me to the confines of our bed. He was there when I would scream and shout that we weren't ready for this when I could cry in the middle of the night because I felt like everything was moving too fast. He was there when I'd turn bitter and wish that I was still in New York instead of Los Angeles when I'd wish I was living the full extent of my life with Veronica and Talia, with no restrictions.
Through all of that ugly, Miles was there, holding my hand, kissing my forehead, and rocking me back and forth as I sobbed in his arms.
He professes how strong I was to carry and deliver Sage, but it was Miles that kept me in one piece. That gave me the strength to be able to carry on.
Sage stirs in my arms, capturing my attention as I look down at his small figure. His eyes are still closed, but I can tell he is growing uncomfortable with being held.
"I can put him down," Miles speaks, coming to the same conclusion that I have. I nod, allowing him to take our son from my arms and into his.
I watch with a half-smile as Miles rocks Sage gently in his arms, walking in the direction of his nursery. It still feels odd having spent the last nine months moving all of my things into this apartment. Sometimes I wonder if having Sage has somehow saved our relationship. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, we would've been doing long distance for who knows how long, which probably would've ended up with us breaking up. It had felt hopeless for a while, knowing that I would have to love Miles from a different end of the country, and then Sage happened, turning all of our plans upside down but somehow making it all work out seamlessly.
I'm exhausted, all of my limbs are achy, and I want to sleep for the rest of my life, if possible. I glance at the clock. It's only a little after ten, but I'm positive that Sage will most likely sleep through the night considering he hasn't taken too long of naps during the day.
"He's out like a light." I turn to see Miles walking back into the kitchen, fiddling with the baby monitor.
"This might be our first night sleeping all the way through," I muse. Miles laughs, pausing in front of me as he places the monitor on the counter behind me, latching his arms around my waist.
"Maybe your mom can watch Sage tomorrow and we could go on a date?" he asks, tracing the tip of his thumb over my cheek. I hum, letting my eyes flutter shut at the contact of his skin. My mom is only going to be in town for the next week, and I know she is eager to spend some one-on-one time with Sage. It will also be good to spend some time alone with Miles.
"I'd love that."
He smiles, and those dimples I love so much appeared just as fast. It's been a gradual realization of how much my life has changed in only a year. The date of when I'd first found out I was pregnant was approaching steadily, and it's only causing me to reflect on the past.
I feel Miles trace his calloused thumb over my bottom lip, a habit he's picked up over the last few months. Being in love with him is amazing, but knowing that he's in love with me is the better part. It's the kind of love I know he writes about in the studio, the words that fill up the pages in his notebook.
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"You're thinking hard," Miles muses, breaking me from my thoughts. He pokes his finger against my temple lightly, smiling cheekily when I scowl, trying to break away from his touch even though we both know that's not what I want at all.
"I was thinking about how lucky I am to be in love with you," I say. Miles smiles so hard I think his lips will split. It causes a certain twinkle to overtake his green eyes. I snort. "Until you started being annoying, now I'm not so sure."
The smile disappears as fast as it had appeared, and Miles huffs, shooting me a pointed look. I laugh at that, tangling my fingers in his to stop him from walking away. I can see his lips fighting a smile, but he turns his head away, pulling me after him as we venture into the living room.
"I want to show you something," he says softly. He releases my hand as I sink into the cushions, watching as he walks over to the small desk that is situated in the corner of the room. It's where Miles usually sits when he is trying to focus on writing new music. I watch him as he sifts through the drawers that are full of papers. I can hear him grumbling under his breath, clearly becoming frustrated when he can't find what he is looking for.
Finally, he produces a thin piece of lined paper, holding it between his fingers as he walks back over to me. I'm smiling at the triumphant look on my boyfriend's face as he comes to sit next to me, holding the paper in between us.
"What is that?" I ask, glancing down at his hands.
Miles looks nervous as he toys with the paper, folding the top of it between his thumb and pointer finger. "It's a letter." I furrow my brows, not understanding what he is trying to say. He immediately clears his throat, holding out the letter for me to take. "I wrote it during those few weeks after I saw you kiss Sebastian outside your apartment." I involuntarily wince at the memory. We don't talk much about that time, but even now, all this time later, I still feel immense guilt for doing that.
Miles' lips quirk a little at my reaction, watching as I unfold the letter with shaky hands. I knew he'd been angry and hurt, so the words on the page are probably reflecting his emotions during that time. I have no idea why he is letting me read it now, and I would be lying if I said a part of me isn't terrified to read his words.
"I was trying to find a way to talk to you, and all I could think was to write a letter. I told Nick to mail it once I was in Los Angeles, but then you showed up at the airport, and well . . . you know what happened after that." I laugh a little, slowly unfolding the paper. "I forgot I had it until I was going through an old notebook and it just fell out."
I look at him from the top of my lashes, and he beckons me to read it, the small smile still on his lips. With one heavy breath, I let my eyes briefly scan the first few words before I begin to read.
Dear Evie,
Sometimes good things come to an end, and selfishly, I didn't think our end would be this soon. I would be lying to you and myself when I say that even though my heart feels like it's been ripped from my chest and stomped on that I'm still not wholeheartedly in love with you.
Because I am.
I've been in love with you since before I even met you. The idea of the girl that would sweep me off my feet and give me something to write about. That would have me staying up until the wee hours of the morning because I can't get her brown eyes or soft skin out of my mind. You were the girl of my dreams before you even opened your mouth. You are still the girl of my dreams, even if you may not want me anymore.
But, when you get this letter, I'll be a great distance away in a different city where I may be finally able to move on. Though, as I write those words, I feel physically ill, because the truth of the matter is, there is no one else for me besides you, Evie Porter. So, when you're finally ready to let me love you, I'll be there. I promise.
Love always,
Miles
I don't even realize I'm crying until I see the teardrop hit the edge of the paper. I look at Miles through my teary gaze to see that he is still smiling at me, his hand circling my knee as he watches me fold the letter back.
"I don't know what to say. I mean—I feel like no matter how many times I apologize or say that I should've never kissed—"
"I know that we've already made the most beautiful gift out of our love, and I know that this is it for both of us. But, I need to hear you say it," Miles says, his green eyes boring into mine and effectively cutting me off. I snap my mouth shut, already knowing what he is asking me to say. I can't help the laugh that escapes me even though I am still crying.
I let my fingers trace over his cheek before allowing my hand to rest against his skin. He leans into my touch, his warmth spreading throughout me.
"I'm ready to let you love me, Miles Lively."
He breathes out, as if all this time, he's been waiting for me to come out and say it. His shoulders deflate and his eyes get that familiar twinkle in them. All I do is blink before he is off of the couch and in front of me, on one knee with a velvet box in his hand. The gasp that leaves my mouth is incredibly loud, I'm shocked it doesn't wake Sage from his sleep.
"Well, since you're ready, would you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife?" Miles asks, his grin wide and infectious as I start both sobbing and smiling.
"Of course!" I can't help the squeal that passes my lips as Miles and I both stand up, meshing into one as we hug and kiss in a mess of tears and pure love. In the mayhem, he slips the ring onto my finger, a beautiful diamond that simply glitters against my hand. It's beautiful.
"I can't wait to spend an entire lifetime with you," Miles speaks against my neck, his arms tightening around my waist.
"The girl of my dreams."
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