Chapter 33 Nevaeh
THIRTY-THREE
Nevaeh
The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
I thought I understood pain. I’ve been attacked, held captive, even terrorized. But this is entirely different. The pain tears through my body like an instrument of torture, ripping away the air in my lungs and making me scream like I never have before.
“Another contraction coming!” the doula says, her hand on my belly. Her name is Miranda, a kind-faced woman in her fifties who Caelian vetted thoroughly before allowing into our home. “Deep breath, Nevaeh. Inhale, exhale.”
I’m in the birthing pool we set up in our bedroom, the warm water providing some relief as another contraction builds. Caelian kneels beside the pool, his large hand gripping mine while his other strokes my sweat-dampened hair.
“I’m right here, mia bella,” he murmurs in comfort. “You’re so strong, Nevi. You’re doing great.”
“Easy for you to say,” I gasp as the contraction peaks. “You’re not—ouch—pushing a human out of your body.”
Ms. Poitier appears with a cool cloth, pressing it to my forehead. “You’re doing wonderful, honey. Just breathe through it.”
Dr. Tulio monitors from his position at the foot of the pool, his features set in concentration. “You’re almost fully dilated, Nevaeh. It won’t be long now.”
Time loses its meaning.
The contractions come harder and faster, each one stealing my breath and making my body shake. I don’t know how long I’ve been laboring—six hours? Eight?
It feels like an eternity.
“I can’t,” I sob at one point, the cry warbling out of me. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Yes you can.” Caelian kisses my brow and grips my hand firmly, never letting go. “You can do this, Nevi. Soon our baby will be in your arms. We’re going to meet our child.”
His certainty gives me strength. It reminds me that while the pain is debilitating and the worst I’ve ever felt, once it’s over I’ll be able to hold our baby. The precious little life we’ve brought into the world.
I nod, gripping his hand even tighter.
“Alright, Nevaeh,” Dr. Tulio says. “On the next contraction, I need you to push.”
The urge comes, primal and overwhelming. I bear down with everything I have, my fingers digging into Caelian’s hand so hard I’m surprised I don’t break bones. He doesn’t even flinch, more focused on me than how I’m crushing—or attempting to crush—his hand.
“Good!” Miranda encourages. “That’s excellent. Again!”
I push. And push. And push ’til I’m screaming louder than I ever have before, my throat aching. Sweat pours down my face, and my whole body trembles with exhaustion. Caelian’s hand is my anchor, the reassurance I need as I work to push the little human out of me.
“Nevi… you are so amazing. I didn’t realize you were so strong,” Caelian says in awe. “For someone so small—fuck, Nevi, you’re incredible.”
“I can see the head!” Dr. Tulio announces. “One more big push. Come on, Nevaeh!”
I gather every last ounce of strength and push. The burning, the stretching, the intense pressure culminates all at once ’til I’m sure I’m about to pass out.
…and then suddenly, relief.
A baby’s wail fills the room, high pitched and cranky.
“You did it!” Ms. Poitier cries, tears streaming down her face.
But something’s wrong. Dr. Tulio and Miranda exchange glances, their expressions shifting from celebration to surprise.
“Nevaeh,” Dr. Tulio says slowly. “There’s another one.”
“What?” I gasp, breathless and slick with sweat. My mind struggles to process through the exhaustion. I just want to hold my baby and sleep for hours.
“You’re carrying twins,” Miranda says, staring in wonder. “There’s another baby.”
“What?!” Caelian exclaims. “What do you mean there’s another one? Inside her right now? All this time?”
Before anyone has a chance to explain—or I’ve even had a chance to question them myself—another contraction hits.
I’m screaming all over again as the first baby continues to wail.
My body handles the rest for me. It’s as if natural instincts take over and my body pushes for me, recognizing the second baby must come out.
But it doesn’t make it any easier for me. I’m in hysterics, sweating and sobbing and throbbing with pain.
“I… I can’t,” I cry. “I can’t do this again. I just—”
“You can, Nevi,” Caelian urges. He presses his forehead against mine. “One more time, mia bella ballerina. One more, and then we’ll have both our babies.”
So I let my body lead. I scream and grunt and bear down as every muscle in my body aches and burns.
Minutes that feel like hours pass, and then… then comes another cry, even higher pitched than the first.
“It’s a boy!” Dr. Tulio exclaims, holding up the first baby. “You have a son!”
“And a girl!” Miranda adds, cradling the second. “A beautiful baby girl!”
Twins.
I had twins. One boy and one girl.
The room spins around me. I hear Caelian’s voice, though his and everyone else’s sound miles away. His hands are on my face, smoothing back my hair and pressing joyful kisses to my brow, my cheeks, and lips.
But I can’t even respond. I can’t do anything as everything gets fuzzy. The intensity of the labor and delivering the babies back to back becomes too much.
“Nevi? Nevaeh!” Caelian says on a note of panic. My head’s lolled onto my shoulder and he cups my face to lift it back up. “Nevaeh, stay with me—”
I black out without even truly registering that I have.
I wake cradled in warmth. Clean sheets, a fresh nightgown, the familiar comfort of our bed pillows. For a moment I’m disoriented, my body aching in places I didn’t know could ache.
I rub at my eyes and let my gaze travel our large and quiet bedroom.
…until my gaze is drawn to the far corner where the softest little snuffling sound reaches my ears.
Caelian sits in the armchair by the window lit by morning light. In each of his arms he cradles a tiny baby. They’re so small against his broad chest, wrapped in warm blankets. One in blue, one in pink.
He’s gazing down at them with an expression I’ve only seen cross his face when staring at me.
It’s pure, undiluted love. He’s looking at our babies as if he can’t believe they’re real.
My heart swells so full it hurts.
“Can I hold our babies now?” I ask almost teasingly.
His head snaps up, relief relaxing his features even more. “Nevi, you’re awake. You scared me when you passed out. Tulio and the doula insisted you were fine. You just needed some rest… but I’ve been here waiting. We’ve been here waiting.”
“Sorry about that,” I say with a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Apparently giving birth to twins is exhausting.”
He stands, stepping toward the bed with both newborns in his arms, carrying them like the precious cargo they are.
“They’ve been impatiently waiting to meet their mommy. Probably tired of looking at this big scary man for so long.”
I laugh as he leans down, pressing a tender kiss to my brow. Then, with more care and gentleness, he places both babies on my chest, skin to skin.
The moment they settle so naturally against me, tears immediately gloss my eyes. My soul feels complete in a way it never has before.
My babies. Our babies.
They’re so tiny, so delicate. I can feel their warmth, their weight, the rapid flutter of their heartbeats. All this time, I carried them both inside me—protected them, nourished them, loved them before I ever saw their faces.
Now they’re here. They’re real and ours forever.
The tears break free and roll down my face as I study each of them.
The boy has Caelian’s thick brown hair already. The girl is nearly bald with only tiny fuzz on her scalp, but her features are so round and beautiful.
Both have their eyes closed, tiny fists curled against my skin.
“I’m so proud of you,” Caelian says, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand comes to rest on my thigh. “You were so strong today, mia bella. But you need to take it easy now. The birth took a lot out of you.”
“Probably has a lot to do with the fact that I had to deliver two babies instead of one,” I point out with a weak laugh. “When exactly were they planning to tell us there were two in there?”
“Tulio said one was always hidden in the ultrasounds. So it was never picked up.”
“Which one of you was in hiding?” I coo softly to them. Our baby girl blows out a gurgling breath and resettles against my chest. I laugh again. “I guess we have our answer.”
“I do have twins in my bloodline,” Caelian admits. “My great-grandmother had twin boys. So did my uncle Vincenzo’s wife. I should’ve thought...”
“I guess I should’ve thought when my belly ballooned as big as it did.”
“But they’re here now, and they’re perfect.”
I gently stroke their soft heads, marveling at how delicate they are. They snuggle into my warmth and the softness of my breasts. A fierce protective streak like nothing before surges through me.
I guess I finally understand what other women mean when they call themselves a Mama Bear…
“We haven’t named them yet,” I murmur.
Caelian thinks for a moment. “How about we each pick our favorite from the list? I choose the boy’s name, you choose the girl’s?”
“Deal.” I study our daughter, thinking through the long list of names we discussed over the past few months. “Siena. I love Siena.”
“Beautiful,” he says. He reaches out to touch our son’s tiny hand, his thumb the size of his whole hand. Our boy’s tiny fingers curl around it as if already recognizing his father’s touch. “Ravello. Ravi for short.”
“Siena and Ravello,” I repeat with a slow smile. “I love it.”
Caelian shoots me a grin, gently caressing Siena’s head next. “You realize the three of us are now named after Italian hillsides? Me, Ravi, and Siena.”
“Seems fitting. I’m sure they’ll grow up to be tall giants like you. Ravi will probably be your twin and Siena will be an . A family of mountains.”
He leans in and softly kisses me on the lips. “Or Siena will be a beautiful little ballerina like her mother.”
“It’s going to be so unbelievable watching them grow, isn’t it? Through the years.”
“Yes. We’ll be here every step of the way loving and protecting them.” He reaches up to stroke my cheek, staring at me as adoringly as he had our babies. “Now you need to rest, Nevi. I’ll watch over all of you.”
I fight to stay awake a little longer, watching as Caelian adjusts his position so he’s lying beside us. His arm comes around me protectively, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth. Our twins sleep peacefully on my chest, their tiny breaths synchronized.
This is what we survived for. What we fought for through the darkness and pain and betrayal.
Not power or revenge. But for our love and our family.
It hasn’t been easy, but it has been worth every minute of suffering.
As sleep finally claims me, I hear Caelian whisper, “My whole world. Right here in my arms.”
I smile to myself and drift off to sleep with our babies.