"Look here, Aaron. The fly is heading for the flytrap." I hear Charlie say to our son. Yes, our son.

After everything I had gone through, from Thomas abandoning me to the psychic telling me I should be the one to raise my son, I choice this man to be my son's father. Actually, it was more like Charlie choice us. He didn't have to take care of me and my baby, but he did and has and I hope he will from now on.

"Did Aaron just eat a fly?" Charlie says teasingly, as he spoons another glob of mashed up fruit from 'our jar'. Aaron is on his lap, squealing and a bit of drool running down the corner of his mouth.

I smile at them. Aaron is ten months old now. Even on this strange island, he's growing, and is healthy and happy. I can't ask for anything more than what I see before me.

Charlie looks up at me, his head still bowed to Aaron's level. "How are you doing over there with that shirt?"

"Doing my best," I reply, holding up the small top. I wish I would have paid more attention to my mother when she was teaching me how to sew. There were no baby clothes on the plane, so I have to sew pieces of clothes together for Aaron to wear. He looks rather lopsided and silly in the clothes I make for him. One sleeve is either longer than the other, or his top goes passed his knees. It's better than having him run around naked with only a diaper made out of more pieces of clothes. But everyone thinks him cute in his little tops I put together for him.

Aaron pushes the next spoonful of mashed fruit away, and Charlie frowns. "I guess he must be full."

"I'm nearly done with this top. Why don't you clean him up and we can see how it fits him," I say around a raveled piece of thread between my teeth.

"All right." Charlie lifts Aaron from his knee, and sets him on the blanket that is separating us. "Stay there, Turniphead. I need to wet this towel."

I'm concentrating on my sewing as Charlie wets the towel to clean off Aaron's face and hands. At least, that's what I think he's doing.

"Claire!"

"Hmm?"

"Claire, you have to hear this!"

I glance up at Charlie's urgent tone. He's sitting on the blanket in front of our son. Aaron is reaching out for him. Charlie has a wondrous smile on his face, and he pulls out of Aaron's reach. Why is he teasing our son like that? I stand, stepping onto the blanket, ready to take Aaron.

"No, don't!" Charlie says, raising a hand to stop me. I look at him like he's just lost his mind. "Aaron just said his first word!" he spills out, quickly and excited.

It takes a moment to register, and when it does I'm too stunned to reply. Charlie pulls me down beside him. Aaron is scrunching his face up like he's getting frustrated. He reaches for Charlie again.

"Dada," Aaron calls. I blink. It wasn't just babble or baby talk. He is looking straight at Charlie and calling for him in a perfectly clear voice. "Dada!" Aaron calls more frustrated, and tries to stand on the uneven surface of sand under the blanket.

This time Charlie grabs our son and lifts him into the air, a proud smile glowing on his face. "Can you believe it, Claire! Our lad said his first word!" He gives Aaron a big kiss on the cheek, and turns to me.

I'm thrilled at the fact that my little baby has said his first word. It's something I have looked forward to, just like when he sat up or stood or walked or ate solid foods for the first time. He's done all of that, and now he's on his way to talking. My smile is cracked, and my eyes are teary.

"Very good, Aaron!" I rub his fuzzy head, pecking a kiss on his nose. "Now you can say Mama next."

I feel Charlie's eyes on me, and I look up to meet his gaze. I know that face he's wearing very well - a mixture of contentment and concern that only he could pull off.

We go about the rest of the day doing our usual routine. I rock Aaron to sleep as the sun sets on the ocean. Charlie is next to me, his arm around my shoulder. The airplane seats are tattered and worn, but they still come in use to us. It's the little things like an arm around my shoulder or rub of my back that really makes me feel comforted and warmed by Charlie.

"You want me to put Turniphead down?"

I shake my head. "I'll do it." I get up, and walk over to the crib. I can feel Charlie's eyes on me the entire time. I've come to know that he wears his heart on his sleeve, and sometimes it's more obvious than others. Tonight, it is very obvious.

He takes my hand, and pulls me down beside him as I return. He looks rather sympathetic now as he says, "Claire, I'm sorry I was Aaron's first word."

I'm not sure how to respond. "What?"

"I saw it on your face. You were upset that Aaron said Dada first."

I frown, but try to sound understanding. "Well, I was a little upset, but being thrilled that Aaron is starting to talk outweights whatever upset feeling I was having."

"But it still upset you," Charlie persist on. He's good at that, never giving up on things. If he wasn't persistent, I suspect he would have never brought me that bottle of water the morning we made the deal about the peanut butter or followed me into the jungle the day Ethan took us.

"Look Charlie," I turn to him so we can be face to face, "After what happened with Thomas and the adoption crisis, I totally put out of my mind any thought of a future with my baby. But the plane crashed and it appeared we weren't going anywhere, and thoughts started creeping in my mind again like when will he learn to sit up or walk or say his first word. A 'daddy' was never included in my thoughts of those moments.

"I assured myself that you'd lose interest in me, but you kept coming around and being exactly what I needed. It surprised me today when Aaron called you Dada, because it made what we have…real. So far, it's felt surreal, like maybe I was dreaming that you truly cared for me and my baby. But hearing Aaron call for you made reality come crashing down on me. It made me realize that you're here, and you're not going anywhere."

Charlie cradles my cheek in his hand. "If a murderer and amentia and a drug addiction didn't tear us apart then nothing will."

I smile, and try to keep back the tears that have formed at the corners of my eyes. I can't though, and they wet Charlie's hand. "I know. I'm just overwhelmed by the fact that it took crashing on a deserted island to find a man willing to accept me. How many men decide to befriend an eight month pregnant woman then help raise her baby?"

"Not many, I suppose," Charlie replies, chuckling. He continues with a serious ring in his voice, "You look like you needed someone to take care of you, and I needed someone to take care of. I guess we needed each other."

He's right.

As many times in the past I said I could take care of myself, deep down I wanted someone by my side and holding my hand telling me it'll be all right.

I lay my head on his shoulder. "I'm thankful you're Aaron's 'Dada'."

"Does that mean I get to shag his Mama tonight?"

I sit up throwing Charlie a shocked look. The last month or so we've been more open with our affection for one another. We've been kissing longer and touching in more intimate places. I haven't been touched like that since the first month of my pregnancy. Thomas seemed to lose interest in affection by then, but I was too blinded to really notice. I know now what true affection is.

"You know we can't go there. I want to do things right."

Charlie presses a kiss to my temple. "I do too. It's just that we're not going anywhere anytime soon. We love each other. We're raising Aaron together. Let's just get it over with."

I look into his eyes. What are we waiting for? There's nothing holding us back. Charlie is looking expectantly at me. "Well, what are you waiting for, Charlie?"

It takes a moment for the question to click for him, but then Charlie slides to one knee in front of me. "Claire, you're the love of my life and I can't live without you. Will you commit to me and be my wife?"

My heart is fluttering. I expected a proposal, but not in that many loving words. Torches around camp are being lit, making this display even more amorous. I cock my head, smiling slyly. "What would you do if I say no?"

There it is. That cheeky grin I love to see him make. "I'll have to convince you." His lips meet mine in a kiss that makes my cheeks flush and hot. I still can't believe my adorable, twitchy Charlie has this effect on me.

I pull away. "You've convinced me."

TBC?