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Molly was asleep in the hospital bed, utterly exhausted. He now had a newfound respect for women and just how hard it was for a woman to give birth. He had thought training for the army had been hard, or trying to line up the perfect shot with less than optimal conditions….it had been nothing like what Molly had gone through in twelve hours of labour, from her water breaking to the birth of their son, Sebastian Cathel Moran II.
He had never expected to want to have his name, with everything associated with it, passed on to another generation, but Molly had changed him. Life had changed him, sure, but Molly had never made him feel less than. Less than perfect, less than honourable, less than loved. Never had she even thought about it, let alone let him continue to think these things of himself. He cherished her for that as much as he cherished her for giving him the gift he held in his arms.
Sebastian definitely inherited the ginger gene unlike their daughter, he mused, and he wondered if he’d have his mum’s brown eyes or his blue ones when he got a bit older and the colour came out. Either way, he had the feeling his son was going to be a dashing figure, if he took after his mother in any way, though if she was awake she would most likely argue that he would be handsome like his father.
And wholly, truly loved as well, he thought as he pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. Just like his mum made sure his dad was.