I run a hand across my mouth. “Wow. Triplets.”
“Yes.” She waits a beat. “That means three.”
“Yeah.” I feel like I’ve been ax-kicked. Triplets are incredibly rare. Even the most generous studies only put the number at one in every nine thousand pregnancies.
Condom failure, partially blocked tubes…and now triplets. What are the odds? My brain’s too sluggish to do the math, but it has to be on the order of getting struck by lightning.
Except this doesn’t feel like a disaster. I can’t put my finger on what I’m feeling precisely, but it isn’t…bad.
She gives me an uncertain smile. “Griffin, I know this is shocking. Take some time to think before you decide what you want to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to force you to be a father to these babies if that’s not what you want.”
I stiffen. Is this why she was so tense and nervous?
Just what kind of asshole does she think I am? Even Dad did the bare minimum of financially providing for us, although anything else seemed too much bother.
“I’ll do the right thing.” The words shoot out.
She flinches. “Meaning…?”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. I’ll be a good dad. I want to be involved in their lives. I am not going to shirk my duties and be absent or uncaring.” And I realize this is exactly what I want to do for our babies. I want them to have a life that’s better than my own.
“Okay.” She smiles.
It isn’t as bright as her regular smile. I don’t know what’s bothering her. Didn’t I just solve all her worries about the triplets?
When she gets up and kisses me, I decide perhaps she’s still suffering the aftereffects of having to announce an unplanned pregnancy and cradle her gently in my arms.
She shouldn’t be anxious. I didn’t just say those things. I mean to execute them all like a responsible, respectable adult.