EPILOGUE 2
GAbrIELA DUARTE
Five years after the wedding
I first suspected I was pregnant one morning when the smell of coffee made me push my cup away.
Months earlier, Luca and I had decided to try for another child. I’d spoken to my doctor, had the recommended tests, and stopped using contraception. The triplets knew our plans. Heitor had asked whether he needed to start saving the toys still in his closet.
I sat in front of the cup in our Paraty kitchen. Luca was finishing packing the school lunches. After years of practice, he still checked which container Noah wanted; our son had changed his preference again.
Camila came for her water bottle and went back to her room. Heitor had traded part of his lunch for two bananas, which Noah didn’t eat. Luca was trying to return the containers to the right bags when he looked at me.
“You’re pale,” he observed.
“The coffee smells strange.”
Luca froze.
“Strange how?”
“Like coffee.”
Heitor, now twelve, came in looking for his sneaker.
“It’s on your foot,” Noah said from behind him.
“The other one.”
Camila appeared with her backpack and found us staring at a cup.
“Did something happen?”
“No,” I said quickly.
Luca said nothing, but his gaze went to the drawer.
“Your grandmother’s car is here,” he announced. “Don’t forget your lunches.”
Noah came back for the bag his brother had left on the chair.
We waited for my mother to leave with all three. When the car turned the corner, Luca came back to the kitchen.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I warned.
“I’m not.”
“You’re breathing as if you’re about to negotiate with a country.”
“Can I get the test?”
I nodded.
We waited together in the bathroom. I set the test on the sink and set my phone’s timer for the time in the instructions. Luca held my hand. When we looked, there were two lines.
“Pregnant,” I said.
He let out his breath and looked at the sink again.
“Two,” I added, starting to laugh. “Staring won’t change it.”
Luca hugged me. He buried his face in my neck, and I felt his laugh before I heard it. I gripped his shirt. Only then did I start to cry.
“My God, Gabi.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded and wiped my face with the back of my hand.
Luca picked up a towel. His eyes were wet too.
“I’m so happy,” he said.
I rested my forehead against his.
“I’m scared. And so happy.”
“Me too.”
That night, I dreamed I was trying to speak through a closed door. I woke with my hand on my belly. It took a few seconds to recognize the room. I touched Luca’s shoulder until he woke.
“A dream?” he asked, sitting up.
“Yes. I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Luca turned on the bedside lamp. He moved the pillow so I could settle beside him.
“Come here.”
I told him what I remembered, my throat still tight. He stayed with me until I stopped searching for the door in the dark. By morning, I could talk about the pregnancy again without that same cold feeling in my stomach.
At the first appointment, Luca held my bag while I filled out the forms. The medical history asked about previous pregnancies. I recorded the triplet pregnancy and the C-section at twenty-nine weeks. Then we spoke to the doctor about that delivery and the care I would need this time.
As we prepared for the ultrasound, Luca came closer to the examination table.
“Can I stay on this side?” he asked, reaching for my hand.
The doctor showed us the image and pointed out the tiny movement of cardiac activity. I squeezed Luca’s fingers while she finished the scan.
“On today’s scan, we can see one embryo,” she explained.
Luca looked at me.
“One child.”
“We’ll have to learn to buy just one of everything,” I said.
He laughed, his eyes fixed on the screen. That night, we told the triplets the news was confirmed. I put the ultrasound picture on the table. Camila picked it up first.
“There’s a baby?”
“Yes.”
Heitor stood.
“How many?”
“One.”
“Check again. Last time there were three.”
“Today’s scan showed one,” I answered. “The doctor will keep checking.”
“Will the baby be born in Brazil or Italy?” Noah asked.
“In Brazil, if all goes well.”
“And have both your last names?”
“Yes.”
Camila hugged my belly.
“I want a girl.”
“I want a boy,” Heitor said.
“You already have a brother,” Noah argued.
“And you already have a sister.”
“I want a girl too. Evens things out.”
“Whoever this baby is, we’re not taking a vote,” Luca told them.
After the conversation, Noah stayed at the table. He waited for the others to leave and looked at Luca.
“You’ll know this one as a baby.”
Luca moved his chair closer to him.
“I’ll be here from the beginning, if all goes well.”
Noah folded the corner of his napkin.
“Will you love it more?”
“No, son.”
“But you won’t miss things.”
Luca was quiet for a moment.
“I wish I’d known you as a baby. I missed so much of your life. And I’m sorry.”
Noah kept looking at the paper.
“But I love you as you are now. I want to hear about the book you’re reading, go to your game, talk when you come to me. That won’t stop when the baby’s born.”
Our son let go of the napkin. Luca held out his hand on the table, and Noah rested his on it. I stayed beside them until he asked whether he could choose a book for the baby yet.
Months later, we learned she was a girl. We chose Aurora. Heitor had suggested Lamborghini and needed to hear no three times before giving up. Cris backed his suggestion just to annoy me. Sofia preferred Aurora. She said the full name aloud, Duarte Bellandi, and repeated how lovely it was.
I kept up my appointments throughout the pregnancy. On tired days, I cut back on work, and I postponed one trip after speaking to my doctor. Luca learned to wait for my answer before suggesting changes to the calendar. Aurora was born one summer morning.
The contractions began before the date of the planned C-section. I called the team, and we went to the hospital. Cris, who’d come from Lisbon for the birth, stayed with the triplets. My mother came with us.
Luca stayed beside me during the assessment. I squeezed his hand with every contraction while we waited for the surgery preparations. When the pain eased, I asked him to bring my bag closer.
“There’s a hair tie in the outside pocket.”
He found it and held my hair while I tied it back.
“Like this?” he asked. I nodded, waiting for the next contraction.
The team finished the assessment and explained what would happen next. When it was time, Luca went with me to the operating room.
He stayed by my head during the C-section, holding my hand. When a cry filled the room, he bowed his head and cried too.
“She’s here,” he kept saying.
A nurse showed me our daughter. Luca was laughing through tears, repeating her name. After the initial assessment, they brought Aurora close to me. I touched her tiny face.
“So are you.”
I touched his hand, still beside mine. Later, with the team’s permission, the triplets came into the room with Cris. Camila wanted to see her sister’s hands; Noah approached slowly and asked whether he could touch her. Heitor said she looked like a potato, then asked to come closer.
Cris put the flowers on the table, away from the bassinet.
Sofia appeared on a video call, now past ninety, asking when she could meet her great-granddaughter.
A few days later, at home, Aurora seemed to wake every time someone switched off a light.
On the first night, Luca walked her around the living room while I rested on the couch.
Near midnight, Cris went looking for a towel and returned with three. My mother collected the glasses the triplets had left behind and sent them to bed. Heitor said he wasn’t tired; he yawned before finishing the sentence.
“Think you still remember how it’s done?” I asked Luca when we were alone with the baby.
“I’m waiting for her to tell me.”
“Judging by the volume, she’s unhappy with the service.”
He laughed and shifted Aurora, supporting her little head more securely.
Aurora settled against his chest. When Luca tried to lay her in the bassinet, she opened her eyes and cried again. Camila came back from the hallway, still in her pajamas.
“She likes being held.”
Luca picked Aurora up again. Noah and Heitor appeared behind their sister.
“Weren’t you going to bed?” I asked.
“We heard her,” Noah answered.
Heitor leaned against the doorframe and yawned again.
“She could get some sleep too.”
I laughed, exhausted. Luca walked around the room, talking softly to Aurora. He told her there were roses near the window and three siblings in the doorway, none willing to go to bed before she did.
“She doesn’t understand,” Heitor said.
“She likes listening. At least, I think she does.”
Camila touched a finger to her sister’s hand. Aurora gripped it. Noah came closer to see, and Heitor yawned so loudly we all laughed. My mother returned and took the three of them to their rooms.
Lamplight reached the exposed brick wall. Near the shelves, the drawing they’d given us at the wedding still hung.
Luca sat beside me. I heard the boys arguing quietly in the hallway, then silence. Cris was dozing in the armchair. Aurora breathed in her father’s arms.
“Do you still remember the house I drew?” I asked.
“Every line.”
“This one turned out differently.”
“It turned out better.”
“Even with the wall?”
“Especially with the wall.”
I smiled, watching them. Aurora opened her hand against his shirt. Luca kissed my forehead and pulled the blanket over my feet.
I rested my head on his shoulder. When Aurora began to stir, he stood slowly and walked around the room again. I listened to his low voice telling our daughter about the house as I closed my eyes for a few minutes.