That was it. The hall erupted in laughter. The sudden swell of sound jerked my baby from her nap, and she gave an angry yowl. I bounced her up and down, but I knew from experience that the only thing that would soothe her was nursing, and I wasn't about to do that in front of fifty students.
“Give her here.” Dr. St. John held out his hands. I pulled the baby out of her front pack and handed her to her godfather.
She immediately shushed, staring up at him with bright blues eyes, and tried to grab his bushy eyebrows.
“There,” he crooned. “You just wanted Poppy, didn't you?”
“Sorry about that,” Achilles said, wrapping an arm around my waist.
I let my head fall to his shoulder. “It's fine. We were finished, anyway. Besides, I'm pretty certain I heard someone whisper I photoshopped you into that photo.” I jerked my thumb at the screen. “Now they believe me.”
He chuckled, turning me in his arms so I stared up at him. After a decade, there were lines around Achilles’s eyes where the skin used to be smooth.
I loved them. The way he laughed easily and smiled often. He gazed over my head to our daughter. “I thought I'd timed it right, but then I realized I had the pram and forgot the diaper bag. Hector's bringing it.”
“I have diapers and wipes in my bag.” I pointed to the overloaded backpack next to my laptop. “We were okay.”
Achilles grunted.
“Sorry.” Hector's voice came from behind me, and I turned. He waited for the line of students to pass him before coming inside, followed closely by Pollux, who held the hands of two grumpy-looking little boys.
My family.
If anyone had told me after that morning on Corfu that I'd wake up a decade later with four children, my career back, and the family I dreamed of, I'd have—
Well, actually, I'd have believed it.
We'd destroyed a pantheon of gods for this life. Anything was possible.
“You're leaving for holiday now?” Dr. St. John asked, causing me to look over my shoulder. “It's the middle of the day.”
“Watch it,” Pollux called. “We've been trying to get her to relax since before the baby. You have no idea how much coordinating a trip to Spain for ten people takes.”
The two boys jerked their hands from him and ran to me. They hit my legs with all the force of two energetic six-year-olds and nearly knocked me down.
I hugged them to me. It wouldn't be long now before they stopped being so affectionate in public. But maybe not.
“Hello, beautiful.” Hector pushed my hair out of my face and kissed me. “How was my girl?” He stared at his daughter, who, at the sound of his voice, turned to fix him with the blue eyes he'd passed on to her.
“Perfect,” I replied, watching the unspoken adoration pass between father and daughter. My heart swelled with love for the family I'd made. All the worry I’d had about being a shitty mother...it was still there, but it was tempered by my love.
I was loved.
And I loved. There wasn't something missing in me. That fear had disappeared the second my oldest son had been placed in my arms and I'd cried at the beauty of his wrinkled, red face.
“Orestes, Paris, and Cas are parking. Cas texted me.” Pollux's face softened when speaking about our oldest son, who bore his twin's name.
“Daddy wouldn't let me bring my sharks and whales!” the green-eyed hellion at my knees cried. He squeezed me, pulling my attention from his father.
Pollux had gifted me with twins. Mateo and Nico looked just like Pollux. They had the same olive skin, same green eyes, and the same way of staring at me from under dark brows. Looking at their little boy faces, I could see the babies they'd been and then men they would be.
I pushed the silky brown hair from Mateo's face. “He wouldn't?”
“He brought five,” Pollux called out. He approached Dr. St. John, holding out his arms. “My turn.”
The old man huffed but passed Simone to Pollux. “I have to get going, anyway. Madalyn is expecting me to pick up another box of papers from my old office. I told her they were useful, but she refuses to keep them.”
Madalyn—his cranky secretary—worked for me now. And the office he spoke of, that was also mine. I had been working around the mounds of papers and books for the last eight years. The man had been a pack rat, and worse, he claimed I “needed” everything he’d left behind.