49. Selena
Selena
The morning sickness is finally getting better. There was a time I never thought those words would be coming out of my mouth. But they are. One week.
That’s how long it’s been since I’ve prayed to the porcelain god. Maybe my babies are finally taking some pity on their mother and making her life a little easier.
I’m actually wanting breakfast instead of glaring at it like it personally offended me. It feels ridiculous to celebrate something so small, but pregnancy has taught me that the smallest victories deserve the biggest celebrations.
My hand drifts over the gentle curve of my stomach. A curve that is now very noticeable. I’m just shy of four months and there’s been no more complications. Every time I pass a mirror or see myself naked, I have to stare at my bump. It’s amazing how the female body is capable of growing tiny lives.
A smile tugs at my lips.
This last month since the dinner at our parents’ has been stress free. I just hate the distance that’s been placed between my men and their father. Unlike me and my mother, they really had a good relationship, but my mother found a way to poison it.
She hasn’t called me once. Not even a text.
There’s been radio silence from her, and I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t sting. I’d hope that she would’ve changed her ways so she could be part of her grandchildren's lives. Apparently her so-called pride is firmly in place.
Some days, I still brace myself for a message from her telling me how I ruined so many lives and what a disappointment I am. But there isn’t one. Sometimes I wonder if she's thinking about me. If she wonders whether the babies are healthy or if I'm okay.
But then I remember something else. She had a choice. She could have been part of this. Part of my life. Part of her grandchildren's lives. She simply didn't want to be. Nor would I have wanted them to be subjected to her cruelty.
As painful as that realization is, there's a strange kind of peace that comes with it too.
I’m happy. And I have three impossibly stubborn, overprotective and loving men who love me with all their hearts. Men who would move mountains for me and put my happiness first, even at the expense of their relationship with their father.
"So..." Sam's voice pulls me back to the present.
"What do you think?"
"Hmm?"
He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Earth to Selly. Where are you?"
"Sorry. Pregnancy brain. What were you saying?” I sigh.
"You know I've heard that excuse at least twenty times today. When they’re born you’re not going to be able to use that excuse anymore. Just admit you were busy thinking about those beefcake men of yours. If Jose let me, I’d have a harem of my own."
I can’t help but laugh. “The lies you tell. The minute one of them showed an interest in Jose, you’d want to murder them. You, my friend, do not know how to share.”
"That is true,” he snorts. He turns his tablet back toward me. "Now that I have your attention, what do you think about this color for your dress?"
The image fills the screen.
The dress is elegant without trying too hard, flowing in soft lines that gather just beneath the breasts before cascading to the floor. An empire waist. Perfect for accommodating what will undoubtedly be one hell of a baby bump in another four and a half months.
But it's the color that steals my breath. Emerald green. My favorite color.
"I love it," I tell him, my fingers tracing along the picture on the tablet.
"I knew you would."
"But it's not me you should be worrying about liking the dress. This is your dream wedding to your perfect man.”
"He really is perfect, isn't he?" I just love the way his eyes light up when he thinks or talks about Jose. They are a match made in heaven.
"He is."
"He makes you smile the way Dad used to make my mom smile."
His eyes glisten just a little before he clears his throat. I hate that my dad won’t be here to see his grandchildren born. He would’ve spoiled them rotten.
The sound of the front door opening and heavy feet on the wood floor drifts into the bedroom.
A minute later, my three favorite men step into the living room. Eli, Jay, and Zeke. Each of them is wearing matching expressions that scream they're up to something.
"Are you ready?" Sam asks.
"For what?" I question, utterly confused.
“Not you, silly. Them.”
“We are. Thank you for helping us to keep her distracted,” Zeke tells him as he steps over to the bed, taking my hand in his and helps me to stand.
"What?"
"We've actually had that dress picked out for days," Sam reminds me. "I've just been keeping you busy while they took care of something." He stands, stretching dramatically. "And now I’m going to watch the show." A grin spreads across his face as he leaves the room.
"Should I be worried?" I ask them as they stand there smiling stupidly at me.
"Nope." Jay gazes at me with the most innocent looking smile on his face. "But we do need to blindfold you."
Just the mention of being blindfolded has me pussy begging for attention. "New kink?" Because I’m not going to lie, it sounds fun.
Zeke's laugh is immediate. "We can try it tonight if you end up liking it." He steps closer to me, leans into me and whispers, "It is my night alone with you."
"You’re impossible.” I give him a playful swat on the chest. Then I whisper back just for him to hear. “But I’m all for it.”
"Come here, Princess.” I step over to Eli as he lifts the bandana he’s holding in his hand and places it over my eyes, tying it securely behind my head. I’m plunged into darkness, unaware of what’s about to happen.
Immediately, two warm arms thread through mine. I can still sense Eli in front of me so it has to be Zeke and Jay.
Gentle lips brush mine, then just as quickly, they’re gone.
"Here we go. Make sure to hold on to her tightly," Eli’s deep voice commands, but it’s not as close as it was.
We begin walking and take slow careful steps. Each of them telling me what to expect and which way to go. Every instinct screams at me to peek even though I can't.
"What are you guys doing?" I ask, hoping one will spill what the big surprise is going to be. God, I hope it’s not my mother.
I hear a door open.
"Okay," Zeke says softly. "There's a small step down." I slide my foot cautiously forward until it catches the change in height. Then warm air hits my face as the smell of fresh cut grass assaults my nose. There’s birds chirping.
"Are we outside?"
"Yes," Zeke whispers beside me.
"What are the three of you up to?"
"You'll find out in just a minute," Jay tells me.
They guide me several more steps before stopping.
"Ready?" Jay asks.
I laugh nervously.
"Maybe. I also might be completely terrified as well."
The knot behind my head loosens, and the fabric slips away. Sunlight floods my vision, and I raise my hand to shield my eyes as they adjust to the light.
Then I see it. My hand flies to my mouth as a sob tears itself from my chest.
I can’t believe it. There, hanging on the porch, is a swing. Not just any swing, but my father’s. But how? It can’t be.
“Is this?”
"Yes," they answer in unison.
I don't even realize I'm moving until I'm sitting on it.
It rocks gently beneath me. Back and forth in a slow rhythmic motion.
My hand rests on the wood as my fingertips trace over the grooves.
I press my eyes firmly closed, and I can hear him laughing as he tells his horrible jokes that make absolutely no sense.
When Mom said she sold the house, I never thought I’d see this swing again. And yet somehow they found it.
“How?” My voice cracks as tears stream down my face.
My hand rests against the armrest Dad carved with his own hands.
"I thought I'd lost my chance." I brush a tear away. "I thought my babies would never get to sit here while I told them about their grandfather.”
"We went to the house," Eli tells me. “We knew how much it meant to you, and we explained it to the new owners.”
"They loved the swing,” Zeke adds.
"We told them how important it was to you," Jay says. “And we made them an offer.”
"They accepted," Eli finishes. "There wasn't anything that was going to stop us from bringing it home."
Jay grins. "Even if we'd had to steal it."
His humor at the situation makes me laugh. In a way, he’s much like my father.
“Thankfully…" Zeke winks. "We didn't have to do that."
“Thank you. This means so much to me.”
All three of them step forward together, then go down onto one knee. Jay, Eli, then Zeke.
Every bit of air leaves my lungs.
Jay reaches for my hand and Zeke takes the other.
"We told you that night,” Eli says. “That we wanted to marry you. But that wasn't how we wanted to do it. You deserve a proposal that’s worthy of the amazing woman that you are.”
Jay and Zeke squeeze my fingers.
Eli’s not done, he glances toward the swing. “Now it finally feels like the perfect time and in the perfect place.” Eli reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny black box.
"You are my Princess. Zeke’s Cupcake and Jay’s Babygirl. You are the mother of our twins and hopefully many more children in the future. You are our world, and there’s no other person we want to grow old with."
He takes a deep breath and I can’t take my eyes off the three of them.
"Will you marry us and make us the happiest men in the world?"
My head is already nodding before my mouth catches up.
"Yes. A million times yes."
Jay and Zeke let go of my hand as the three of them stand together. Eli opens the box, removing the beautiful diamond inside and takes hold of my left hand.
"Our mother gave me this ring before she passed." His voice thickens with emotion. “It’s been handed down from mother to child for generations. She told me to give it to the woman I'd marry."
He slides it carefully onto my finger.
"It belongs with you. Because there’s no one more deserving to wear it.”
The ring fits perfectly. As if it had always been waiting to be placed on my finger.
Eli kisses me first, then each of his brothers follow.
Somewhere behind us someone starts crying. Bawling, outrageous crying. I look past my fiancés—God, that sounds so good to say---to see Sam standing in the yard, phone held high in his hand focused right on us, recording every second.
Tears stream freely down his face as he sniffles loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He notices me looking. Offers me a completely unapologetic shrug. "I told them I'd cry."
A laugh bursts through my tears.
"You little sneak."
He grins.
"You're going to want to watch this someday to remember how fucking hot you look.”
I look around me at the family that I wasn’t born into but that I’ve made mine.
My best friend, who is more like a brother, who was ready to pause his life to be my fake baby daddy.
At the three incredible men who just gave me back the last piece of my father I thought I'd lost. The very men who’ve shown me love and given me two amazing babies who I can’t wait to hold.
Then finally my eyes land on the swing where one day our children will laugh just like I did.
Standing here, surrounded by the family that chose me, I finally understand something. Love isn't the people you're born to. Love is the people who fight to stay and are willing to fight for you.