Chapter Eighteen
Tristan
I’m crouching and strapping my youngest son, Juno, into his carrier when an angry voice sounds from behind me.
“ You .”
I straighten and turn to face my wife. She’s coming slowly down the stairs, her eyes narrowed on me. She’s wearing a flowery, full-length sundress that emphasizes her curves and reveals her breasts in a square neckline. She looks completely edible and I have to resist the visceral urge I have to cancel our trip to the park and just take her back upstairs instead.
If Thayer wasn’t already here, getting Hayes ready in our living room, and if we weren’t meeting the others directly there, I would be doing just that.
I hold up my hands playfully but can’t keep the grin off my face at her thunderous expression. She’s so fucking cute.
“What have I done, baby?”
“Don’t play the innocent act with me, Tristan.” Her finger comes up to point at me. “You know exactly what you’ve done.”
“I don’t, but tell me,” I say, reaching for her and pulling her against my body. “I’ll apologize so fast, baby. You’ll see,” I whisper, giving her a crooked grin.
“I’m pregnant. Again .” She takes in my stunned expression and holds her palm up between us, her fingers spread. “That’s five babies, Tristan. Five .”
My hands tighten on her until I know my grip is borderline bruising. She flushes when she looks up and sees the shamelessly possessive look on my face.
“I take that back,” I purr. “That’s not something I can apologize for unfortunately.”
My hand closes around the front of her throat and my lips find hers. I kiss her, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth as I moan my pleasure proudly. She fists the fabric of my shirt and pulls me closer. Even when she’s annoyed with me, she can’t get enough. Just like I can’t.
I pull away only long enough to whisper, “I finally got my basketball team” and then my lips are back on hers, even hungrier than before.
She pushes firmly against my chest, ripping her mouth from mine.
“This is the last one, Tristan.”
“Mhmm.”
“I’m serious, otherwise I’m putting a complete and total embargo on my vagina.”
The laugh that erupts from her at the horrified look on my face eases the previous tension in the air.
“You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will if you don’t keep your super sperm away from me.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Thayer asks, walking in holding Hayes’s hand. Rhys is bringing Ivy to the park straight from her swim class.
Nera turns towards her. “I’m pregnant.”
“Holy shit, again ?” Thayer throws an offended look my way. “Keep your hands off your wife for like five minutes, Tristan. I’m literally begging you at this point.”
“I gave her over a year off after Juno. Compromise,” I reply happily. Thayer hugs Nera tightly and congratulates her.
“Then we’re going to compromise on this baby being the last one,” Nera answers.
“I can be okay with that.” I pull her close once more. “Are you still happy about it?”
She softens, letting me hug her against me. “Always.”
I smile. “Me too.”
There’s a small part of me that experiences something akin to grief that this part of our life is over.
I’m not ashamed to admit that part of the reason I keep getting Nera pregnant is that I know the more babies we have, the harder it would be for her to ever leave me should she one day feel the ill-advised and futile urge to try.
The fact that I constantly search for new ways to tie her to me is because of how often she tried to run away from me—from us —when we first started dating. Call it protective instincts or preventative measures, I don’t care. The reality is there’s nothing I won’t do to make sure she stays where she belongs; by my side for the rest of my life.
It would also be much easier to stop at five children if they weren’t all so fucking cute . Even now, as I look down at Cato, Kiza and Suki who are pulling a slinky toy between the three of them, and at Juno who’s asleep in his carrier, the animal part of my brain is screaming “more!”.
“Mummy’s having another baby?” Kiza asks, wise beyond her years.
I crouch and grab my daughter, beaming up at Nera. “Yes, she is, darling.”
“Where?” Suki asks, inquisitive as always.
“Where what?”
“Where’s baby?”
Nera gets down on her knees next to me. She places her hand on her bare stomach.
“In Mummy’s tummy.”
Suki’s eyes widen even though she’s too young to understand any of this. “Woah.”
All three of the children minus a sleeping Juno crowd around their mother. I wrap the four of them in a big hug, making the kids squeal delightedly.
“‘Woah’ indeed,” I say, as happy as I’ve ever been.
***
Kiza and Hayes walk hand in hand just ahead of us as we approach the park where we’re meeting the rest of our friends.
“Stop at the crosswalk,” Nera calls out to them.
They listen, stopping well short of the road. Their heads come together and they start to whisper gossip back and forth as they wait for us. They started kindergarten this year and every time I come home and ask Kiza how her day was, she mentions someone new. It’s getting hard to keep track of all her friends, but I’m pleased to report she hasn’t mentioned any boys’ names more than once yet.
As we come up to them, Cato is holding his mum’s hand, Suki is in Thayer’s arms, and I’m pushing Juno’s stroller. We cross the road and enter the park, walking towards the main field where we said we’d meet the others.
“There they are,” Thayer says. She looks down at Suki and points at something in the distance. “Do you see your Uncle Rhys?”
Suki’s face lights up excitedly as they approach. “Ivy! Astra!” she screams, spotting her best friends.
“What am I, chopped liver?” Rhys answers with an offended pout.
Thayer sets Suki down and then she’s running as fast as her short little legs can take her towards her friends.
“You’re a lower priority to them,” Thayer says, walking up to her husband. She places a hand on his chest and gets up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “But not to me.”
A purr rumbles in his chest like a big cat’s. “I better not be, love.”
“Tristan!”
I turn towards the sound of the voice and find Rogue coming towards me. He was further out into the field and seemingly attempting to fly a kite with Rhodes, but he comes in when he spots me. He’s almost running towards me but is doing his best to keep his pace as nonchalant as possible.
“Did you hear the news?” he asks when he’s level with me. “We did it. We’re having a girl,” he says boastfully.
Bellamy is five months pregnant but I didn’t know she was having her gender scan this week. A rare but brilliant smile splits his face. This may be the happiest I’ve ever seen him.
“Congrats, mate,” I say. “Since we’re sharing happy news, Nera’s pregnant again.”
The smile wipes off his face and he throws me a glare before walking off, cursing under his breath the entire way to his wife. I turn towards mine and find her dark eyes on me, a smile curling her lips after listening to that exchange. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest.
“Thank fuck you’re pregnant again. I can’t have as many kids as Rogue, that smug asshole would never shut the fuck up about it.”
She snuggles into me, laughing openly.
My proudest achievement in life isn’t cutting off my father and going out on my own, it’s not the restaurants, it’s not even my children.
No, it’s the fact that I make Nera laugh.
Constantly.
For years, my wife struggled silently with crippling but high-functioning depression. It would have been hard for most to spot that she was unhappy, but it was there. Right beneath the surface and quietly killing her.
Watching her laugh her way through our relationship together has been the most rewarding part of the last ten years. I make her happy and that in turn fuels my own happiness more than anything else ever has.
We rarely spend the night apart because I hate it — I’m sure a therapist would diagnose me with PTSD stemming from the four months we were broken up — but if we have to, I use a recording of her laugh as my alarm so I can wake to the sound of her voice.
“They could keep going and have as many as us,” she points out unhelpfully.
My face drops.
“They better not. Bellamy !” I shout.
“Oh my god, Tristan, don’t call her ov—”
“Yes?” Bellamy asks, walking up to us.
“Are you going to have more kids after this one?” I ask.
Nera elbows me in the ribs and I wince.
“What?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” is her pointed reply.
“Oh, yes, congratulations,” I say. “Very happy for you and all that. Are you going to have another kid after this one?”
“God, no,” she answers, horrified. “He wanted a daughter and he’s getting one. We’re done after she’s born.”
I smirk, looking down at my wife and pulling her closer into my side. “Nice.”
Bellamy watches the exchange with a small smile on her lips. “Any reason you’re asking?”
“Not a reasonable one, I’m afraid,” Nera answers for me. There’s a smile on her lips when she continues. “My oaf of a husband wants to make sure he’ll have more children than yours so he can rub it in his face until the end of time. Something for us all to look forward to.”
Bellamy laughs, then looks at Nera. “ More children though? Is there something you want to tell me?”
I squeeze Nera in my arms, pick her up and twirl her around. “We’re expecting!” I crow happily.
“Our last baby. We agreed,” she calls out mid-twirl.
“She threatened me with the unthinkable,” I clarify.
“Don’t worry, no one would think you’d agree to this decision willingly without some threats being involved,” Six says, joining us. “We all know if it was up to you, you’d be a family of twenty.” She reaches for my wife and pulls her from my arms and into her own. “Congrats, Nerita.”
“Yes, congrats Ner Bear!” Bellamy adds, joining the hug.
***
We’re all sitting on the tablecloths our wives brought and laid on the grass to form a wide eating and play area. The kids mill around us boisterously as we pick at the food spread and chat amongst ourselves.
Our wives are sitting off to one side. Bellamy is feeding her youngest son, River, on her lap. Riot is sitting between Six’s legs, playing with her hair, while Juno sleeps in Nera’s arms and Suki bounces on Thayer’s knee, laughing giddily.
As usual, Rogue and Rhys are arguing. Phoenix and I watch on, happy not to be involved.
“Keep your son away from my daughter,” Rhys warns.
“Please,” Rogue scoffs. “He’s a Royal. He’s going to have the pick of who he wants. Why do you think he’d settle for your genes?”
Rhys snorts. “Because people love me?”
“Debatable.”
“I won the World Cup this year. I brought it home. My name is going to go down in English history. Who’s going to even remember you when you’re gone?”
“Only every single person who made enough money to attend said World Cup or build those stadiums thanks to me.”
Rhys yawns widely. “Boring.”
“I think you’re projecting.”
At that exact moment, the four of us watch as Rhodes crosses the blanket, marching determinedly on short, unsteady legs towards where Cato and Ivy are looking at a coloring book. Without pausing, he pushes Ivy down to the ground.
She lands on her butt and looks up at him with eyes wide with shock.
Her lip trembles heartbreakingly and then she starts bawling, fat tears streaming down her cherubic face.
Rhys tries to dive for Rhodes but Rogue holds him back, keeping him forcefully seated on the blankets.
“Rhodes!” Bellamy yells, admonishing her son. She hands River to Nera and stalks over to him. “Why did you push Ivy?”
Thayer goes to her daughter and hugs her. Thankfully she seems okay. I think Ivy’s tears are more due to surprise than they are pain.
Rhodes glares at his mother, looking far too much like his father.
“Why did you push Ivy?” Bellamy repeats.
He points at Cato, refusing to look at him.
“She was playing with Cato,” he argues, his lower lip jutting out angrily.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
He crosses his arms and glares at the older boy. “She’s not allowed.”
“Why not?”
He stomps his foot. “She can only play with me .”
I disguise my laugh behind a cough.
Thayer shakes her head and throws an incredulous look our way. “Rogue, how is your three-year-old already showing signs of jealousy?”
Bellamy sighs, answering for him.
“He’s his father’s son, apparently.” She turns towards Rhodes and grabs his shoulders. “You need to apologize to Ivy, Rhodes. It’s not okay to push people like that.” She leans closer, whispering her next words in his ear so softly that I only just manage to catch them. “If you like Ivy, you have to be nice to her. Otherwise, she won’t like you back.”
She releases him and tips her chin at him to go to her. We all watch as Rhodes seemingly walks in the opposite direction, away from Ivy.
Once he reaches the edge of the tablecloths, he bends and picks a yellow flower from the ground. He turns and goes up to Ivy who’s still clutched against her mother’s chest.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, extending the flower towards her.
Ivy blinks, her wide eyes growing wider. And then her tiny hand reaches out and closes around the stem, taking the flower from Rhodes. She looks at it like it’s her most prized possession and then smiles shyly up at Rhodes.
“Thanks. Let’s play.”
She jumps out of her mum’s lap, grabs Rhodes’s hand, and then they run off.
“Like I said,” Rhys drawls from behind me, shaking Rogue off him. “Keep your son away from my daughter.”
Rogue shrugs. “If he’s decided he wants her, I fear it’s over for her.”
“I’ll make sure it's over for him .”
They continue bickering, because if death and taxes are the two certainties in life, then the third is that those two can always be counted upon to argue their way through a social gathering.
Phoenix, meanwhile, is paying them no mind. He’s too busy with his daughter.
Astra is sitting balanced on his forearms, which he has crossed over his chest. Her legs are to either side of his torso, kicking happily. The expression on her face is laser focused, her tongue peeking out of her mouth in concentration as she does his makeup.
Suki, Ivy, and Astra each received a children’s first makeup palette for Christmas, something they’d been requesting for months. It’s a cheap, plastic set that features some truly horrific eyeshadow colors such as fuchsia, electric blue and toxic waste green.
Every single one of those colors are making their way onto her dad’s eyelids and even his cheeks, creating a vivid canvas that would make Jackson Pollock proud. Flowery barrettes adorn his short hair in places so precarious they’re in open defiance of all the laws of physics, and gaudy clip-on emerald earrings hang from each earlobe.
To say he looks both completely ridiculous and perennially unbothered is an understatement. He sits there serenely, his eyes closed as he lets his daughter paint his face every color of the rainbow, only speaking to ask if he looks pretty.
“Very pretty, Daddy,” she answers.
“Good.”
It’s interesting to watch Phoenix with Astra and see how contrasting our relationships with our kids are. With four kids already here and a fifth on the way, my time has to be split equally between them.
Phoenix, on the other hand, is entirely, blindly, and unreservedly devoted to his daughter.
I fear for the man who’ll eventually try and take her away from him. He might have to break into their home or something, because Phoenix is unlikely to ever let anyone near her.
“Are you doing Daddy’s makeup?” Six asks, coming to sit by them. Phoenix’s hand searches for her, coming around to rest possessively on her ass as she settles into a cross-legged position at his side.
“Yes,” Astra answers, still so focused she’s hardly blinking. She grabs an eggplant-colored tube from her case. “Gloss. Mummy show Daddy how to do the lips.”
Lazily, Phoenix peels open an eyelid, his stare tracking Sixtine’s mouth as she pouts her lips in demonstration of how to prepare for the application of lipstick.
His gaze darkens, his voice turning husky.
“Mummy has the prettiest lips,” he rasps.
I turn away before I witness something that’ll ruin our friendship. My gaze moves slowly over the other smaller groups that have broken off around our area — Rhys and Cato kicking a football back and forth, Rogue showing Kiza and Hayes how to blow bubbles, Bellamy and Nera sitting with Juno, River, and Riot as the youngest kids sleep, and Thayer playing tag with Rhodes, Ivy and Suki.
I watch them all and take a moment to truly bask in how lucky I am to have built such an amazing found family around me.
***
After a chaotic dinner and an even more chaotic bath time with the kids, I settle in the armchair of my study and call my sister.
“Hey, Tessticles.”
She sighs, the kind of groan only a sister dealing with her annoying little brother can make.
“I know you’re looking for a reaction, so I won’t give you one.”
“Disappointed to hear it.”
“You know I have trained killers a mere phone call away who are just begging to do what I ask, right?”
I scoff. “You can’t kill me, I’m your brother.”
“Nice try, but that excuse is running a little thin.”
I sit up, deciding on a different tactic. “I’m a father. Soon to be of five beautiful children,” I add proudly.
She sucks in a surprised breath.
“Nera’s pregnant?”
Tess can’t see me, but we can both hear the smile in my words when I answer. “She is.”
“Oh, Tristan. Congratulations, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you!”
“I only found out today. I wanted to tell you right away.”
“How is she feeling?”
“Good so far. She hasn’t had morning sickness like she did with Juno so that’s good news. Let’s hope it continues that way.” I laugh, then add, “Other than that, she’s told me pretty firmly that we’re done after this one.”
“I mean, fair enough. She’s a saint for making it to five when she already has to deal with having you at home.”
“I’ll have you know that my wife loves me.”
“Well, someone has to.”
I laugh, enjoying the good-natured ribbing that flows between us every time we talk.
“Can you tell her I’ll call her tomorrow? I need to take her out to celebrate.”
“Will do.”
“I’m really so excited for you both. A final little Noble baby,” she says with a happy sigh.
“Matsuoka,” I correct.
“Oh yes, sorry. Exhausted Mum brain — Rafe was sick last night so we were up with him.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, just a little stomach bug. He’s thrilled that he gets to chow down as many saltine crackers as he wants.” She yawns. “The Noble name really went extinct with our generation, huh?”
I hum in acknowledgment. Companionable silence stretches between us as we both retreat into our thoughts.
Neither one of us has seen our father in years. Once my mum moved out, he moved on pretty quickly. He never reached back out to her or us, much to our delight. Last we heard, he’d left England for the south of France and had settled in Nice with his twenty-two-year-old girlfriend.
When we married, it was the easiest decision in the world to take Nera’s last name. I didn’t give a fuck about tradition and I also didn’t want her or our future children to carry a name stained by abuse.
“Ah well,” I say with a shrug. “Pretty shit last name when you think about it.”
“Lots of baggage,” she agrees. “We’re well rid of it.”
“Speaking of baggage, is your husband still behaving?”
Tess laughs. “Don’t pretend you two don’t like each other these days. He told me just this week that you weren’t his least favorite brother-in-law. That’s high praise coming from him.”
My lips part in shock.
Why am I… offended to hear this?
How dare he have someone he despises more than me?
“Devastating news. Clearly, I’ve been slacking. I need to step up my game.”
“Mhmm,” she hums, placating me.
“How is everything else?”
“Good. Theo is going to be ten in a couple months, can you believe it?”
I bring a palm to my chest, right over my heart. “Fuck, that just made me feel ancient.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Pretty soon, you’re going to have a teenager on your hands.”
“I fear we might already be there. He asked if he could get a tattoo this week.”
“Shit.”
“Thiago said yes.”
I laugh boisterously, imagining my sister categorically refusing the request while my heavily tattooed brother-in-law agreed, likely seeing it as a bonding opportunity with his son.
“So he’s getting a tattoo?”
“No, Tristan, my nine-year-old son is not getting a tattoo. But you can’t imagine the conversation Thiago and I had and what I had to do to get him to change his mind.”
“Gross. Nor do I want to hear about it, Tess.”
I can almost hear her roll her eyes at me. “He started getting tattoos when he was thirteen so he doesn’t understand what the big deal is. That’s as late as I could get him to agree to. I have three years to come up with convincing arguments before my little boy comes home inked up.”
Thiago getting tattooed so young is unimaginable to me, but we come from two very different worlds. I doubt Tess will allow her son to get inked before he’s an adult, but if anyone can get her to change her mind, it’s Thiago.
“Anyway, we had to promise Theo something out of this world as a present to get him to stop sulking, which is why I’m glad you called. Do you think your friend who plays for Arsenal would be open to a meet-and-greet with him?”
“Rhys? Yeah, of course. Let me know the details and I’ll help get it set up.”
She claps her hands happily on the other end of the phone. “Oh, that’s amazing. Thank you so much. Tell Rhys that Thiago says he’ll owe him a favor for his help. You know those can come in handy.”
***