Feeling like you’d been hit by a truck, you slowly blinked your eyes open and listened intently to the sound of hushed whispers. Exhausted and aching from head to toe, you twisted your head to one side and smiled when you found the source of the noise.

“Yeah, that’s it, you snore your little head off,” Johnny whispered as he cradled his newborn son to his bare chest. “Good, lad. Let your Ma have a rest.”

Rory looked so tiny in his father’s big arms — something you knew was a lie. He was a huge baby. You had the C-section scar to prove it. But next to his father, he looked like a tiny doll.

“Jaysus, I think you’re after taking the heart clean out of me, son,” Johnny continued to tell him, as he stroked his head of dark hair — evidence to why you had so much heartburn these past nine months. “You’re a handsome lad, Rory Kavanagh.”

“He must take after his father,” you said with a contented sigh.

Johnny’s eyes locked on yours, so full of love and admiration that you shivered. “Hi, {{user}},” he said, giving you a huge smile.

You grinned back at him. “Hi, Johnny.”

Rising from his armchair with Rory still nestled into his chest, Johnny closed the space between you two and leaned down. “You’re some woman, {{user}},” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thanks for my baby.”

“Yeah.” Smiling, you reached up and patted his cheek. “You’re welcome.”