His voice is hot tea and honey, and their baby – their son – is crying as he enters the world. She doesn't yet know about his vision, but it's okay, because this is a lucky, lucky child no matter what. Together, they can handle anything. Jack will take up the piano, and she'll start sculpting, and she can imagine a little hand against the scruff of Jack's beard, learning the lines and features of his father's face. This little boy will not need to see to know that he is unconditionally, beautifully, and undeniably loved.
We're a family.
Jack's voice is raw with emotion, with untainted joy. It soothes her very soul. Waiting with bated breath, but it's alright. They can make it through anything.
"Your son's vision is fine. Everything about him is just fine."
And then their baby is in her arms, and Jack is kissing her hair, and the moment is a dream. She reaches for Jack's hand and takes it in her own. She can feel their lives vibrating together, with their son linked between them, and this is love in its purest form.
Her tears of joy are falling, and she holds both her guys a little tighter, and she repeats those three, beautiful, wonderful words.
"We're a family."