Chapter 51
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Timothy
The day finally comes.
I don't know what I was expecting, but I certainly didn't think I'd be this damn nervous. I’ve dealt with everything in life, my fair share of chaos, emotional mess, and unpredictable shit, but watching Ivy clutch her belly and breathe through another contraction is unbelievable.
I’m supposed to be the calm one, the steady hand. Yet here I am, scrambling through the living room, my hands shaking as I try to locate the damn hospital bag.
“Shit,” I mutter, tossing aside a pile of clothes, still not finding it. “Where the hell is the bag? We had it packed, didn’t we?”
Ivy looks at me, pale but determined, her face tight with pain. “Timothy, it’s in the closet, left side. Just... hurry.”
“Right, right.”
I finally yank the bag out from under a jacket, practically throwing everything inside it as I stuff it into the car.
I can’t focus. My mind keeps circling back to one thing: this moment. The moment our lives completely shift.
Mitchell is in the kitchen, muttering curses as he rattles the keys in the bowl on the counter. He’s trying to hold it together, but I can tell, his jaw is tight, his shoulders stiff. He hates feeling out of control, and right now, he's about as far from in control as possible.
“Mitchell,” I say, walking over, grabbing the keys from his hand. “Stop. I’ve got it. Get Ivy settled in the car.”
He barely nods but follows through, his green eyes sharp, trying to mask the anxiety he's clearly struggling with.
I walk to the living room, where Ivy is sitting on the couch, her breathing shallow and fast. She’s clearly in pain, but she’s still trying to keep it together, the same way she always does. It’s both maddening and inspiring.
“You good?” I ask, kneeling down beside her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
She nods but winces as another contraction hits. “No. But... I will be.”
I smile, but it's tight. "You're tough, Ivy. You're more than ready for this."
Her lips curve upward, though it’s weak. “I hope you're right.”
Just as I stand to help her up, Freddie comes into the room, his face pale but his movements steady. He’s a rock, his calm energy somehow grounding all of us.
“Okay, the sitter is here. You ready to go?” he asks Ivy, his voice low but steady.
“Yeah,” she says, sucking in a sharp breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
Freddie wraps his arm around her shoulders, helping her stand as I grab the bag and Mitchell rushes to the door.
The three of us make our way to the car, and I’m still stuck in the fog of what’s happening.
This... this isn’t just a trip to the hospital.
This is the beginning of everything changing. Forever.
Once we’re in the car, things go by in a blur. I can barely focus on the road, on the sounds of Ivy’s labored breathing, on Mitchell’s quiet muttering as he checks the rearview mirror.
We could be moving at a hundred miles an hour, even though I know we’re going way too slow.
Halfway there, Ivy grips my hand so tightly I’m worried she’s going to break my bones. She’s sweating, her face flushed, and I can see the sheer willpower in her eyes as she fights through the pain.
"Keep breathing, Ivy," I say softly, my voice strained with the emotion I’m trying to hold back. "You’re doing amazing."
She doesn’t respond, but I can tell by the way she holds my hand that she’s still with me. Still strong.
The drive seems to take forever, and when we finally pull into the hospital parking lot, I might be the one about to collapse, not her. But somehow, she’s the one who pulls herself together the quickest.
“Come on,” I say, helping her out of the car. “We’re almost there.”
Mitchell’s right behind us, and Freddie leads the way into the hospital, looking almost too calm as he guides Ivy toward the entrance. I glance back at the car, expecting Jesse’s truck to be somewhere in the lot, but it’s not.
Right as I’m about to ask, my phone buzzes with a text.
Jesse: Good luck. I’m rooting for you all.
I don’t reply. The words are enough, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. Jesse, for all his gruffness and distance, is still here in his own way. It means more than I’ll ever let on.
I slip the phone back into my pocket as we make our way into the hospital, the smell of antiseptic and sterile surfaces filling my nose. Ivy’s breaths are quicker now, more erratic. The whole damn place is a whirlwind, and I just want to get her settled somewhere safe, somewhere she can breathe.
By the time we get to the delivery room, I’ve got Ivy propped up in bed, her hand gripping mine as if it’s the only thing holding her to this world.
Mitchell and Freddie stand nearby, both looking like they might pass out themselves, but they’re trying to hide it. The tension is thick between all of us, but we’re a unit now. The four of us have grown into this strange family that doesn’t quite make sense to anyone else, but it works for us.
The nurses bustle around, setting everything up. And I stand there, helplessly watching as Ivy prepares to do the most painful thing she’s ever had to do.
The doctors give her some instructions, and I can feel the tension in the room rise. But then, Ivy looks up at me, her eyes clear despite the pain.
“I’m ready,” she says, her voice strong.
I nod, squeezing her hand. “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”
And just like that, everything shifts. The calm and chaos collide, and I know this is it. This is where we’ll all begin again…
Everything moves fast. The bright lights blur as the world narrows down to just Ivy and her labored breaths, the sound of her heart pumping faster with every push.
It's as if someone’s cranked the volume of the room up to a hundred, and in the midst of the chaos, Ivy’s face is the center of it all. Her eyes are focused, but the strain of the moment is evident. Each contraction is a storm rolling through her body, and I’m helpless to stop it.
But I can be here. I can hold her hand, remind her she’s not alone, and that’s what I do.
I squeeze her fingers between mine, trying to offer whatever comfort I can.
“You’re doing amazing, Ivy. Just breathe,” I whisper, even though my own heart could burst out of my chest.
I can barely think straight, but the pressure of her hand in mine helps anchor me. She’s the strong one here, the one enduring the impossible. I’m just here to catch her when she falls.
Mitchell is behind her, rubbing her back with long, soothing strokes, his hands firm but gentle. He’s so quiet, almost like he’s waiting for something. Maybe if he stays still long enough, this moment will somehow feel more real. But it’s real now.
Freddie’s voice is low and steady as he murmurs words of encouragement, just a constant presence at Ivy’s side. His fingers run through her hair, and I see him press a kiss to the side of her head when she winces with another contraction. He’s doing exactly what she needs him to.
The four of us, this strange little family, we’ve all fallen into place. We don’t know what the hell we’re doing, but somehow, we’re doing it together.
Ivy’s breathing turns sharper, quicker, and I can feel the tension in the air, the room itself is holding its breath. Her body is pushing, pulling against the weight of what’s coming, and I can barely stand to watch.
“Timothy, I… I can’t,” she gasps, her face pinched with the effort. “I…”
“You can. You are. Just keep going, Ivy,” I urge, my voice softer now, but still steady.
She nods, tears streaking down her cheeks, but determination gleams in her eyes. I squeeze her hand harder, trying to ground her, trying to make her feel less alone.
Then, suddenly, everything changes.
There’s a sound. A soft, startled cry from across the room.
A baby.
And then another.
The third is a little more tricky, but arrives nonetheless.
The doctors are all moving quickly now, but it’s all in slow motion for me. I can’t breathe, can’t move. All I can do is stare as the room fills with the tiniest voices, the sound of new life echoing in the sterile, fluorescent lit room.
Ivy slumps back against the bed, gasping for air, her body still trembling with the aftermath. But her face... it’s peaceful.
We did it.
She did it.
“Guys,” Ivy whispers, barely above a breath. “They’re here.”
I look down at the tiny bundles in the doctor’s hands, my mind struggling to catch up with the reality. There are three of them. Three little lives, fragile and perfect, staring up at the world with wide, confused eyes.
A baby girl. Another girl. And a boy.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me. The tears well up before I can stop them. There’s something surreal about this, about the way these little beings fit perfectly in the world we’ve created.
I reach out, my hands trembling, to touch one of the girls. Her tiny fingers curl into mine, and my heart explodes. This is real. It’s terrifying and incredible all at once.
Mitchell stands beside me, eyes wide, and for once, I don’t see his usual controlled demeanor. He’s... cracking. His lips tremble, and I catch him wiping his face quickly, though it’s hard to hide the tears he’s fighting back.
Freddie’s quiet too, but there’s an unmistakable lightness in his eyes, a joy that wasn’t there before.
We all just stand there, frozen in the moment, gazing down at the babies. They’re the most precious things we’ve ever seen.
It’s overwhelming. I’ve been struck by lightning, the world has shifted beneath my feet in a way I can’t even begin to understand.
“Three,” Mitchell breathes, his voice barely audible. “We’ve got three.”
I nod, but I can’t find words. Not yet. There are too many emotions battling for dominance in my chest. Too much fear, too much joy, too much responsibility.
But the one thing I know for sure?
Ivy’s face lights up as she looks at them, her babies. Her family. It’s everything she’s always wanted, and in that moment, I realize how deeply I’ve fallen for her.