“Hey, look at me.” Drew lowers his voice, using his calming technique that works magic on me every time. “It’ll be okay. They can share our spare room for a while and then maybe we can look at moving back to the house.”
We moved to an apartment closer to the city just before we found out about the pregnancy. Between our busy work schedules, the commute from the big house became too much. We barely saw each other and spent more time on the road than in each other’s company.
“But… but… I can’t carry two babies. I can’t even carry one baby,” I cry, sucking in my breath.
“Susan, would you mind giving us a minute?”
Susan nods, leaving the room with a sympathetic smile.
Drew laces his fingers into mine, raising my hand toward his lips and kissing each knuckle gently. My head falls back onto the pillow, a tear running down the side of my cheek as I try to absorb this life-changing news.
“We can do this, okay? You can do this. You’re stronger than what your give yourself credit for. Remember the time you got that nasty bout of food poisoning from the one-dollar taco you ate from that street vendor? You still woke up the next morning and ran the marathon with Mia and survived.”
“I never told you that I vomited three times on that marathon. One of them was accidentally in this old lady’s picnic basket. It was crowded, and I panicked.”
Drew lowers his head, avoiding eye contact and trying to hold in his laughter. Maybe it was funny to him, but vomiting in some stranger’s picnic basket isn’t one of my finest moments.
Still riddled with terror, I sob again. “Once, I babysat the next-door neighbor’s kitten. Just the one. I went to put milk in its bowl and left it on the couch, and she fell off. I’m horrible. It was only one kitten. How on earth will I take care of two babies? I can’t even keep that orchid you gave me alive. I know you said it doesn’t require maintenance, but it died.”
“Hey… breathe.” Drew runs his finger down my cheek, rising from the chair and leaning in to kiss me. His lips, warm and loving, ignite that fire in my belly each time he touches me.
“You’ve got me, okay? We’re a team, and there’s no I in team.”
“There’s a me in team.”
“Zoey,” he whispers.
“Drew.”
“I love you. And I don’t think it’s possible to love you anymore, but here I am, proud to call you my wife and mother of my babies.”
I exhale a small breath and smile at my husband. As long as I have him by my side, I can get through anything.
“Now, let’s get out of here and feed my babies your favorite pizza, okay? But only this once. After today, you’ve got to start eating better.”
Cringing, I barely manage to swallow. “Argh, gross. You know what I really want? That kale salad you bring home with that yellow slimy-looking dressing. Oh man, it smells so good.”
Drew’s smile fades, and instinctively, he places his hand on my forehead with a cemented gaze and follows by checking my pulse. “Shit, are you okay?” His expression turns from worry to a know-it-all smirk as he once again toys with my raging emotions driven by my unpredictable hormones.
“Aside from panicking that my vagina is going to become some waterlog ride shooting out babies and a potential dead goldfish… yeah, I guess so.”
Drew extends his arm, supporting me as I sit up, handing me a tissue to wipe off the greasy lube they used on my belly.
With my body now dressed and no longer exposed in a questionable gown, we make our way outside after a much-needed restroom stop, thanking Susan along the way, and walk toward the car.
In the parking lot, amongst the many rows of vehicles, Drew steps ahead of me to open the door to our newly purchased car, latching onto my arm to help me in.
Slightly irritated, I pull back. “I can get in the car. I’m not disabled.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you’re holding onto me like I’m precious cargo.” I sigh, bothered by his overbearing ways. “Look, okay, I’m fine. I just need to get my head around this whole twins’ thing. I didn’t expect this—”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Listen, I’ve got twenty minutes if you want to go to the café down the road?”
I nod, happy to spend time with my husband even if it’s only for twenty minutes. Grabbing my phone and fiddling with the stereo to activate the Bluetooth, I scroll through my list of songs, stopping at the perfect one.
“Oh God, really? You know I only have twenty minutes and this song takes up six of my few precious minutes,” he complains.