Chapter 37 - Owen
OWEN
I’ve always thought the loudest sound in the world was a server farm overheating. Or maybe Ethan yelling at a lawyer. Or Asher explaining quantum mechanics after three espressos.
Turns out I was wrong.
The loudest sound in the world is the silence between contractions.
“Breathe,” Ethan commands, his voice tight. He’s gripping Tessa’s left hand like a vice. He looks like he’s piloting a fighter jet through a hurricane. “In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Just like we practiced.”
“If you tell me to breathe one more time, Ethan,” Tessa gasps, her face flushed and sweaty against the hospital pillow, “I’m going to divorce you. And then I’m going to remarry you just so I can divorce you again.”
“Understood,” Ethan says instantly. “No breathing commands. Copy that.”
I stifle a laugh from my position at the foot of the bed.
I’m currently on ice-chip duty, a job I fought Asher for because Asher wanted to weigh the ice chips to ensure optimal hydration levels, which would’ve definitely earned him a punch in the face.
“You’re doing great, Tess,” I say, leaning in to wipe her forehead with a cool cloth. “You look beautiful. A little terrifying, like a Viking shield-maiden, but beautiful.”
“I feel like I’m being ripped in half,” she groans, her head falling back as the contraction subsides.
“I know,” Asher says from the monitor station. He’s wearing blue scrubs fitting him perfectly, and he’s rearranged the hospital’s equipment to be more efficient. “But you’re almost there, Tess. You’re 9.5 centimeters. The transition is nearly done. Just hold on.”
“Asher,” Tessa pants. “Shut up.”
“Shutting up,” Asher nods.
We’ve been in the secure VIP suite of St. David’s Medical Center for twelve hours.
After the clinic leak, Asher refused to return to the original facility.
We arrived at 3:00 AM in a motorcade looking like a presidential extraction.
Ethan drove. Asher navigated. I sat in the back with Tessa, timing contractions and playing her ‘Push It’ playlist, which she made me turn off when Salt-N-Pepa came on.
It’s been the longest, scariest, and most exhilarating twelve hours of my life.
“Here comes another one,” Tessa whispers, her eyes widening in panic. “Oh god. It’s starting.”
The monitor spikes.
The playful banter dies. The Unit activates.
Ethan leans in, his hand framing her jaw. He brushes the hair off her face. “I’ve got you. Look at me. Eyes on me.”
Asher abandons the monitors and moves to her side, grabbing her other hand. “Squeeze. Transfer the pain. I can take the psi pressure.”
And I stand right where she needs me. I grab her leg, supporting her knee. “You can do this, Tess,” I promise, my heart hammering against my ribs. “We’re right here. We aren’t going anywhere.”
Dr. Aris breezes into the room, looking calm amidst the storm. Asher had paid an exorbitant fee to ensure her delivery privileges transferred to this secure hospital, refusing to trust a new doctor with our dynamic. She checks under the sheet.
“Alright, gentlemen,” she says brightly. “It’s showtime. Tessa, on the next one, I need you to push. Baby A is crowning.”
“He’s here,” Ethan whispers.
“Focus, Ethan,” I snap, though my own hands are shaking.
“Okay, Tessa,” Dr. Aris says. “Deep breath. And… push!”
Tessa screams. It’s a primal, guttural sound tearing through me. She bears down, her face turning red, veins popping in her neck. Her grip on Ethan and Asher is crushing.
“That’s it!” I yell, watching the miracle happen. “Come on, baby! You got this!”
“Good, good, good,” Dr. Aris encourages. “Stop. Breathe.”
Tessa collapses back, gasping, sweat soaking her hair. “I can’t. I can’t do it again.”
“Yes, you can,” Ethan says fiercely, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re the strongest person I know. You saved Mosaic. You saved us. You can do this.”
Asher grips her shoulder, his own composure cracking. “The transition is over, Tess. You’re at the finish line.”
Tessa glares at the ceiling, taking a breath.
“Push!” Dr. Aris commands.
Tessa pushes. She gives everything. She pushes with the force of a woman who has handled three alpha founders, a corporate war, and a scandal, and won every single time.
And then… the crying starts.
A high, thin, angry wail fills the room.
“Baby A is here,” Dr. Aris announces, lifting a slippery, squirming bundle into the air.
“Atlas,” Ethan chokes out. Tears are streaming down his face. He doesn’t even bother to wipe them.
The nurse takes the baby to the warmer, but we don’t have time to celebrate.
“Baby B is impatient,” Dr. Aris says. “She’s right behind him. Tessa, don’t stop. We need one more big push.”
“Come on, little girl,” I whisper. “We’re waiting for you.”
“Push, Tessa!” Asher commands, his voice cracking.
Tessa grits her teeth. She roars. She pushes until I think she might break the bed.
And then, a second cry joins the first. A harmony of new life.
“And here she is,” Dr. Aris smiles, lifting the second baby. “Baby B.”
Tessa falls back against the pillows, sobbing. Not from pain anymore, but from sheer relief. “Is it over? Are they okay?”
“They’re perfect,” Dr. Aris says.
The nurses clean them up. They wrap them in the ridiculous, tiny blankets with the blue and pink stripes. And then, they bring them to us.
They hand the boy to Ethan.
My oldest brother takes him. He holds his son like he’s holding a bomb that might explode, but his expression is utter devotion. He looks down at the tiny, red, scrunched-up face, and the defensive walls he built for over thirty years just turn to dust.
“Hi,” Ethan whispers to the baby. “I’m your dad. One of them. I’m the bossy one.”
They hand the girl to Asher.
Asher stares at her. She opens her dark, unfocused eyes. Asher goes perfectly still. He touches her tiny hand with his pinky finger. She grips it instantly.
“She’s so strong,” Asher whispers, his voice trembling. He stares at her with absolute fascination. “She’s perfect.”
I step closer, staring at the two tiny lives we’ve just brought into the world.
“Do you want to hold them?” Tessa asks, reaching her arms out.
“Give them to Mom first,” I say, my voice thick. “They need Mom.”
We place the babies onto Tessa’s chest. Skin to skin. She wraps her arms around them, kissing their fuzzy heads, crying softly.
“My mosaics,” she whispers. “My little pieces.”
I lean over the bed, wrapping my arms around her and the babies. Ethan leans in from the left. Asher from the right. We form a protective shell over the bed.
“So,” Dr. Aris smiles, peeling off her gloves. “What are their names?”
We discussed this. We had spreadsheets. We had veto power. We had arguments lasting until 2:00 AM.
Tessa looks up at us.
“For the boy,” she says, looking at Ethan. “We wanted something strong. Something that means he can carry the world, but he doesn’t have to do it alone.”
“Atlas,” Ethan says. “Atlas Hartley Branson.”
She smiles. “Hartley?”
Ethan nods, looking at his son. “We’re honoring your father, Tess. The man who was ready to fight us to protect you. We’re rewriting the code.”
I swallow hard, nodding. “I like it.”
“And the girl?” Dr. Aris asks.
Tessa looks at Asher. “We wanted something bright. Something coming from the stars. A nod to the thing that almost destroyed us but ended up bringing us together.”
“Nova,” Asher says softly. “Nova Marie Branson.”
Nova. A star flaring brighter than anything else in the galaxy. A nod to Nebula, but ours. Brighter. Better.
“Atlas and Nova,” I repeat. “The A-Team.”
“The B-Team,” Asher corrects. “Branson Team.”
“Whatever,” I laugh, wiping my eyes. “They’re perfect.”
The room is quiet two hours later. The adrenaline has faded, leaving us running on fumes.
Tessa’s asleep, finally. She looks exhausted—her hair matted, no makeup, a hospital gown hanging off her shoulder. She’s the most breathtaking thing I have ever seen.
Atlas is asleep in the bassinet on the left. Nova is asleep in the bassinet on the right.
Ethan’s sitting in the chair by the window, staring at Atlas. He hasn’t moved in an hour. Asher’s sitting on the floor, reading the instruction manual for the hospital-grade breast pump he insisted we buy.
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, just watching Tessa breathe.
“We did it,” I whisper quietly.
Ethan looks up. “We did.”
“Are we ready for this?” I ask. “Changing diapers? School runs? Dealing with boys who want to date Nova someday?”
“I’ve already drafted a security protocol for Nova’s dating life,” Asher says without looking up from the manual. “No dating until she is thirty. Or until the suitor can beat me in chess.”
“She’s going to be single forever,” I laugh.
Ethan stands up and walks over to the bed. He puts a hand on my shoulder.
“We’re ready,” Ethan says. “We figured out how to run a company. We figured out how to share a wife. We can figure out two babies.”
“We’re outnumbered now,” I point out. “Three of us. Three of them—Tessa and the twins. The balance of power has shifted.”
“Good,” Ethan smiles. “I was getting tired of being in charge anyway.”
Tessa stirs. Her eyes flutter open. She looks around, panic flaring for a millisecond until she sees us. Until she sees the bassinets.
“Hey,” she croaks.
“Hey,” I smile, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” she admits. “But happy. Really happy.”
She looks at the three of us hovering around her.
“Come here,” she whispers.
We move closer. Ethan sits on the edge of the bed. Asher stands behind him.
“Thank you,” she says.
“For what?” Ethan asks.
“For staying,” she says. “For fighting. For giving me them.” She gestures to the babies.
“Thank you,” Ethan says, kissing her hand. “For finding us. For putting us back together.”
“The Mosaic,” she smiles sleepily.
“Hey, guys?” I say.
“Yeah?” Ethan and Asher answer in unison.
“I think this is my favorite update yet,” I say.
Tessa laughs. Ethan smiles. Asher nods.
“Version 2.0,” Asher agrees. “Launch successful.”
“Go to sleep, Owen,” Ethan says, but there’s no bite in it.
I lean down and kiss Tessa’s forehead.
“Sweet dreams, Strategist.”
She closes her eyes, a smile lingering on her lips.
I step away from the bed, crack my neck, and drop onto the floor next to Asher to help him decipher the breast pump manual before the twins wake up hungry.