Chapter 46
Cole
WE’RE A FAMILY
Thirty Weeks Later
“Okay, Dad, are you ready?” Doctor Sandy asks me.
I have never been less ready for anything in my life. But I nod anyway because Ariana is looking at me from the operating table, doing the actual hard part, so I have to be the one who holds it together.
Though I’m not sure it’ll be possible when I know what’s coming. They’re going to cut her open. You’d think in this day and age there would be a less barbaric way to deliver twins.
A C-section has been part of our birth plan almost from the start, but no amount of research or books could have prepared me for how out of my mind with fear I would be knowing the three most important people in the world to me are at the mercy of this medical team.
They’re practically strangers and I’m entrusting them to keep my wife safe as she brings our children into the world.
I’ve never felt less control than I do right now. I’m helpless. And it’s terrifying.
They’ve given Ariana a spinal block, which means she can’t feel anything from the chest down but she’s completely awake and aware.
A blue surgical drape is positioned just below her shoulders so neither of us can see what’s happening on the other side of it.
I’m seated on a stool right beside her head, her hand locked in mine.
“You okay?” I ask her. “Does anything hurt?”
“I feel weird,” she says. “No pain, kind of warm and tingly, but also heavy. It’s the strangest thing.”
She’s oddly calm and steady. We may as well be talking about the weather. Though I shouldn’t be surprised given how incredibly steadfast she’s been throughout the entire pregnancy. Hell, I only got her to stop working a few weeks ago and that was after some serious begging.
The mother of my children is fierce and stubborn, and she’s grown into a force of a woman during pregnancy. I’m in awe of her. My astonishment for her has no bounds.
I would’ve crumbled at the first bout of nausea had I been in her shoes. Having witnessed her throughout this journey, I’ll never be convinced women are the weaker sex. A man could never. I sure as hell couldn’t.
“I can’t feel anything,” Ariana tells the anesthesiologist. “Is that normal?”
“That’s completely normal,” he says from his spot at the head of the table, monitoring everything. “Just keep breathing.”
The room is busy, yet controlled to a T. With twins, there are even more people than I was expecting—Doctor Sandy and her team, two separate pediatric teams standing by, nurses, a scrub tech. Everyone in this room has a job to do except me.
Helpless is an understatement.
I squeeze her hand, mostly to calm myself down. She squeezes back harder, and I see a brief flash of fear.
My teeth clamp down on the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions at bay.
I’d do anything to trade places with her right now.
“You’re doing great, Ariana,” Sandy says from the other side of the drape.
“I’m scared,” Ariana says quietly, only for me to hear. “What if I bleed out? What if I die and I never get to meet them?”
Her heart rate noticeably spikes on the monitor.
“Hey.” I smooth over the cap covering her hair.
“Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re not going to die.
Don’t even talk that way.” A tear slips from the corner of her eyes and I brush it away.
“The babies are doing great. You’re young and healthy.
And your sister is right outside the door, and you know she’ll bust it down and come save you herself if she has to. ”
Ariana lets out a watery laugh. “You’re right. She’s fucking crazy, thank God.”
“Okay,” Sandy says, her voice more pronounced than before. “You’re going to feel some pressure and pulling now. That’s perfectly normal. Just keep looking at each other.”
I keep my eyes on Ariana’s face. She keeps hers on mine.
“Tell me something,” she says. “Distract me.”
“Your boobs look incredible,” I joke, trying to ease some of the heaviness.
She snorts softly. “Only you would bring up my boobs at a time like this.”
I plant a quick kiss to her palm, rubbing her hand because it’s one of the only parts of her body I can comfort at the moment. “I’m just trying to make you smile, doll.”
“I know,” she says, rewarding me with a smile.
“You know I love you, right?” I inch closer. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Her voice is a hushed whisper.
Despite the bustling happening around us, the only thing that exists is me and her.
And I need her to know that no matter how terrifying and uncharted this new adventure may be, there’s no one I’d rather take this leap with.
“You’re going to be an incredible mother.
Our children are already so lucky to have you. ”
She drags in a shaky breath, moisture pooling in her eyes.
“I’m really happy it’s you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else either.
” Her gaze softens with a lightness that shouldn’t be possible between tears and under the glow of fluorescents.
“And I just know you’re going to be the best dad. ”
Before I get a chance to respond, her face winces slightly as she breathes, like she’s not fully in pain, but there’s an awareness there. Something happening on the other side of the drape she can feel without feeling.
“Okay,” Sandy announces. “Baby A is coming.”
We debated not finding out the sex of the babies, but we both caved at the sixteen-week appointment. Ariana was convinced we were having girls. I was equally convinced they were boys.
We were both half right.
One boy. One girl. Another one of those kismet things I can’t help but feel is practically divine. Written in the stars or some shit.
Picking names after that was easy. We decided to honor our other halves, using their middle names. Our daughter will be named Annabelle, after Layla Annabelle. Our son will be named Conrad, after Miles Conrad.
A ferocious cry sounds, Ariana’s face crumples, and mine isn’t far behind.
“Baby A is a girl,” Sandy calls out, briefly raising her high enough above the drape for me to see before passing her off to the pediatric team.
She’s dark-haired and furious, her skin flushed with one hell of a set of lungs, and I’m overwhelmed by the onrush of emotions.
“Is she okay?” Ariana asks, craning toward where they’re wrapping her up. “Is she okay?”
“Strong cry, good color,” one of the nurses calls out warmly. “She’s doing beautifully.”
They bring her around the drape for a moment so Ariana can see her before the team takes her to be checked over properly.
“Okay,” Doctor Sandy says, and there’s a focused calm in her voice that pulls the room back in. “Let’s get Baby B.”
Ariana’s hand tightens around mine again.
It doesn’t take long before an equally strong cry joins the room, layering into the air, two voices announcing themselves at once, and I press my forehead against Ariana’s temple and stay there because I’m overcome with a swell of love so big and powerful, I don’t know what to do with it all.
“Baby B is here,” Sandy says. “A boy.”
When they place both babies on Ariana’s chest—one on each side, wrapped tight—I look at the three of them and feel whole in a way I haven’t in over two decades. They are all my missing pieces.
There’s no replacing Miles. There never will be. But the void isn’t this dark, endless pit anymore. It’s full of life. Their lives.
And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep them safe. I’d lay down my life for them. Fight any battle. Burn the earth if I had to.
My entire world exists in these three. My purpose.
The greatest loves of my life.
“Talk about a dilf.” Ariana smiles from her hospital bed, looking exhausted yet devastatingly beautiful as her gaze settles on me.
Annabelle and Conrad are lying on my bare chest, doing skin-to-skin while their mother rests.
It’s kind of amazing how these little babies, each no bigger than a loaf of bread, have completely flipped our world upside down.
All that power and they have no idea as they sleep soundly on me.
“How are you doing, doll? Do you need me to call a nurse?”
She shakes her head. “I’m perfect. Never been happier.” Her voice is tired-sounding but there’s nothing but peace in her expression.
We decided not to have family at the hospital to avoid any stress. The only exception being Layla, but she’s been on shift down in the ER and said she wouldn’t be popping in for a visit until this evening.
I was worried I wouldn’t be enough for Ariana during the delivery, that she might need her mom or sisters, but I’m glad that wasn’t the case, and it was only ever us.
Even now, hours post-delivery, I wouldn’t want to share this precious time with anyone. Our first day together as a family.
We’re a family.
And somehow, life just keeps spinning like nothing has changed—when everything has.
After three days in the hospital, they send us home.
It feels almost illegal being allowed to leave with the babies. Sure, technically we’re their parents, but we have no idea what the fuck we’re doing. They’re so small and fragile, I’m practically walking on eggshells trying not to fuck up.
Thanks to Dominic lending me a hand with his new dad expertise, he helped me install the car seats a couple weeks ago so we’re able to safely get home, the twins perfectly snug the whole drive.
About a month after finding out we were going to be parents, I managed to get Ariana to move in with me.
It wasn’t the easiest trying to convince her, and it meant conceding to a lot of pink being added to the house, but truthfully I didn’t care at all. She could redesign the whole place and I’d still feel like the luckiest guy on earth.
We had already been pretty inseparable prior to moving in together so it wasn’t a huge shock to the system, it felt more natural than anything.
Seeing her toothbrush by mine, her things in our closet, the smell of warm sugar and coffee permanently soaked into every room. I loved it.
And I loved it even more after we set up the twins’ nursery. My house was always my sanctuary, and Ariana made it all the better. She made it a home.
I get the twins settled in their bassinets while Ariana relaxes on the couch. She’s still recovering from the C-section, visibly wincing with each movement.
Our families are on their way. Soon our moms will be fussing over the twins, our dads will likely be deciding who won which bet—since their new favorite hobby is betting on our lives—and our siblings will be fighting over who gets to hold which baby first. It’ll be loud and chaotic and overwhelming.
Two families coming together to celebrate the next generation.
There’s no competition, no rivalry. That was the past, because the future is much brighter.
I look at Ariana from across the room. She has her head tipped back against the cushions, eyes closed, one hand resting softly on her stomach out of habit. She looks tired and beautiful and more herself than anyone I’ve ever known.
And I think about the morning I stood outside the crack in the door of her coffee shop in the dark, watching her, telling myself I should leave but I was too entranced by her to stop.
From there, I was hooked, crushing hard on the one woman I wasn’t supposed to.
I’m glad I found the courage to take the risk. Even if it meant coercing her into a fake relationship.
Wordlessly, I move to lie beside her, gently holding her in my arms. Her body relaxes against mine, her soft curves molding to me.
I have everything I convinced myself I didn’t want—but someone somewhere knew I needed it all along.