By the time I finished the story, he was fast-asleep and I grinned, while I looked at his peaceful face. Cameron was basically my carbon copy. Same hair. Same strong nose and full eyebrows. He looked a lot like me when I was his age. The only difference was his eyes. They were his mother’s. The prettiest grey.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
He sleepily smiled in response and I knew he was somewhere far away, in a dreamland of horses and giraffes. Instead of leaving, I stayed there, sitting next to him on his little bed, watching my son sleep.
It was crazy how in a few weeks, we were going to go from a family of three to a family of six. Cameron was going to be a big brother to his three sisters. I didn’t doubt for a second that he was going to be a loving and protective brother. He had been anxiously waiting for his younger siblings. Yesterday, he put his head to Julianna’s swollen belly and told his sisters all about his day. He was already bonding with them and they weren’t even here yet.
Shit, it still felt surreal every time I thought about the triplets. Julianna struggled with her infertility and I knew how badly it affected her that we couldn’t have another child. That despondent look on her face. The dejected slump of her shoulders. The sobs she tried to hide from me while she was in the bathroom.
My wife felt like she was robbing me of the big family I had wanted. That something was wrong with her.
Julianna told me so, one night – when she thought I was sleeping.
That was when I decided that we’d stop trying; to end the IVF treatments. Because I didn’t care that we couldn’t have any more kids. Sure, I wanted a big family but not at the cost of my wife’s mental health. Julianna and our son were enough for me. We were happy and that was all that mattered.
But then it happened.
One dream turned into three little miracles.
It was absolutely batshit crazy and I was here for all of it.
Eventually, I left Cameron to sleep and went back to my own bedroom. Where my wife was peacefully sleeping. Naked under the bedsheets. She didn’t even twitch when I got in bed.
Julianna was on her side, facing me, with her blonde hair on her face. I tucked the stubborn strands behind her ear and her nose twitched with a breathy snore.
I settled back into my pillows, not at all sleepy. So, I did something else, like stalk my wife online. I grabbed my phone and searched up Julianna Spencer on google. There were multiples new articles that had gone up in the last two days. My chest tightened because I knew what to expect when if I opened any of those articles but I had to know. I had to see what they were saying about her.
I scrolled through my phone, reading the comments on a newest article I found about Julianna.
My blood boiled as my stomach churned. The comments had only gotten uglier and more hateful since the last time Julianna and I were photographed together. That was two days ago.
The media had been vile to Julianna for years now, since Bishop’s truth came out to the world. She was the daughter of a criminal and when I announced that I was running for President, the personal attacks began.
They tried to degrade her as a woman.
They vilified her, and painted her as the daughter of the country’s enemy and not as Julianna Spencer, my wife. Though she had tons of support online, the public’s hate for her was unrestrained and exceeded the support that she got.
Her innocence had been proven many times, but they didn’t care. We thought we’d be able to clean her image and goddamn it, we fucking tried – but nothing worked. The people had made up their minds about my Julianna and it killed me.
The hate surrounding Julianna had somewhat affected my presidential run but my opponent was a piece of shit and I was the next best candidate for the country and our citizens knew that. So, I still had a chance at winning – especially after back-to-back successful campaigns.
My gaze flickered to a sleeping Julianna for a moment and then I went back to the comments.
Actually, I always thought Gracelynn was a better match for Killian Spencer.
My fists clenched as I read the next comment. I’m not falling for her innocent act and sob story. There’s just something about her that doesn’t sit right with me. Like, it’s just a feeling and my feelings are never wrong.
Fuck this.
I always found it weird that she survived the accident. Do you think she planned it, so she could get with her sister’s fiancé?