First Came You (Fate #0.5) (14 page)

So, I’m not thinking about it.

Tommy’s right—I trust him, he knows what he’s doing. He’s never steered me wrong, he’s always had my back, and by becoming his wife I’ll have the undeniable assurance that I will always be protected from the great unknown.

“I cannot wait to be Gabriella
Edwards
and I’m ready whenever you are.”

Three weeks LATER

“I’m late,” I whisper into the phone, not wanting Gina to hear.

“For what? You don’t have class today, it’s Saturday.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I know it’s Saturday. It’s also the 15
th
—five days after my period was due.”

“Oh!
Oh!
” Tommy bellows. “You mean . . . ?”

“Yes, I
mean
you better get your ass here on your lunch break and stop at the drugstore on the way. Get one of those Clear Blue thingies, and be discreet. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I don’t need anyone around the neighborhood thinking you proposed to me because you got me knocked up.”

The silence from the other end freaks me out. He’s freaking out. I’m freaking out, but freaking out isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to get this scare over with and be more careful in the future. God already gave me all I can handle by taking my parents. Surely he wouldn’t throw a teenage pregnancy at me too.

“Okay. Sit tight. It’s probably nothing, like you said, so let’s not go getting all
holy shit
about this just yet.”

“Exactly. Calm and collected. Easy peasy. We got this.” I say all that shit but I certainly do not believe it.

Breaking the news to Gina about the engagement was one thing. She wasn’t too mother hen about it. In fact, after we told her we were taking a year to plan everything, she was happy for us. But this? What the hell am I going to do if I’m pregnant?

“Come on, come on! That was the longest two hours of my entire life.” I pull the brown paper bag—way more discreet than those flimsy plastic things—out of his hands, and then drag him into my house. “Bathroom. Now.”

“You’re going to make me watch?”

“Of course I’m going to make you watch. If
I
have to sit in agony for the next—” I examine the box for directions—“five minutes, then you’re gonna sweat it out with me. Besides, this is all your fault, anyway.” I rip open the cardboard box and pull out the plastic covered stick.

“My fault? How’s this only
my
fault?”

“Because you’re the one with the penis.” I point at his pants with one hand while holding the pregnancy test underneath my stream with the other.

He shakes his head, shrugging in suspicion.

“Penises have sperm, sperm makes babies. I had an innocent ol’ vagina and non-useful eggs until you came along.”

“Wow, how technical you make screwing you sound. Nice.”

“Oh, just shh! I can’t think right now. We’ve got another four minutes.”

We sit in silence, circling the tiny bathroom like sharks. The second hand on the wall clock in the hallway makes a deafening ticking as it marks an end to our two hundred and forty second wait.

I look at Tommy. He gawks at me. We’re motionless, ignoring the white stick waiting on the sink to be read.

It’s one of those moments.

Stuck in time, frozen in our history.

Like the time Seth shoved me, playing hopscotch. Like the ringing of that telephone when my parents died.

It’s fate making itself known.

Tommy bum rushes the sink and picks up the stick, staring at it. “Blue plus sign. What does that mean?”

“A plus sign is the same as positive. As in
not
negative. I’m pregnant, Tommy.”

Tommy blinks rapidly, color escapes his face. “Holy fucking shit. You’re pregnant!”

Behind his shocked expression I can almost make out a hopeful smile. If I wasn’t so freaked out, I’d think this was all part of the way things were destined to work out.

Nine months later

Ah, you thought you’d turn the page and hear about how Gina slugged me when she found out about the baby. Or how my parents ordered us to get an abortion and then disowned me for not agreeing with them.

Well, all that
did
happen. Tenfold, plus five hundred.

Gina was livid. I’ve never seen her so angry.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you FUCKING kidding me? Pregnant! Gabriella, you’re only eighteen! Oh my god, Mom would’ve . . . forget Mom, Dad would have killed you.” She points a sharp finger in my face, and then pushes me—hard!

“What the hell are we going to do now?” she asks with her hands on her head. “I don’t know how to raise a baby. This was not in the job description, guys.” The poor girl is frantic. First, she loses her parents, then Gabriella becomes her daughter, and now this.

“I’m sorry, Gina,” I hook an arm around her neck. “We can get through this. I promise. This isn’t on you. This is my responsibility. Gabby is mine too. We’ll push up the wedding and do this the right way.”

I promised her that night that I would do right by her sister. And I haven’t gone back on my word yet. Especially when I made Gabriella my wife.

“I will not have those babies come into this world until you have my last name, Gabriella.”

She flails her arms in the air, fighting me. “You only want to push up the wedding because we’re having kids. No one gets married at eighteen and twenty one anymore, Tommy. We don’t have to do this now, we can wait until after they’re born. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries her best to be convincing, but it doesn’t work.

“Nope. Now. We’re getting married tomorrow. I rushed the paperwork, arranged it all. Tomorrow, you will become my wife—what I’ve wanted since I was sixteen years old—and we will be the best mother and father to those lucky girls.”

She gave in and made me an honest man the next day. The same day my parents called my wife ‘the troubled, knocked up, neighborhood orphan who ruined their son’s future.’

People like that don’t deserve to be part of my happiness and there’s no reason to dwell on any of it because it doesn’t matter. None of it affects the way my life is about to change in this one split second before my babies let out their first cries.

Gabriella always talks about those key moments in her life; when she felt the earth turn on its axis to make room for what was destined to happen
as
it happened.

I’ve had those moments too.

My first was the same as Gabby’s first: when that little fuckface pushed her.

The second was watching Gabriella walk down her staircase in that blue dress; the night I admitted my feelings for the girl I’d loved since I was ten.

There’s one that I think about with pure rage: when my parents turned their back on me and their unborn grandchildren. Gabby had lost her parents to an accident—that changed her forever. Losing your parents because they don’t want anything to do with you—that scars you for good.

But I wear my battle wounds proudly. They make me who I am at this very moment; the moment when I become a Daddy.

“One more push, Mrs. Edwards. Push hard and long.” The nurse cradles my wife’s head, pushing it toward her bent knees.

“You can do it, baby. Come on, Gabby. I’m here for you.”

With a whimper and a painful wince, she looks at me for approval. “Promise me? Promise me, always.”

“Always.” I bring her knuckles to my lips.

After one more solid push, my first daughter—Nina, named after her deceased grandfather, Nino—graces the world with her beauty. With a hearty cry and thick black hair, my baby girl steals my heart.

“Okay, Mrs. Edwards, that’s one down, one to go. Let’s do this so you can hold your daughters.”

Without an argument in return to the nurse’s bluntness, Gabriella lets out a loud moan as another baby’s cries fill the room. “That’s my Stella,” I cry, reaching for my second daughter—this one named after the woman her mom called mom. “Oh my god, Gabby. They’re so cute, so tiny. Baby, we have a family.” I cannot contain my joy. I must look like such a wuss all emotional and teary eyed like some schnook in the movies.

“Bring them here, please. I need to see them.” Gabriella adjusts her hospital gown and the nurse brings one bundled package over to me.

“Baby A,” she indicates. A is Nina.

“Baby B,” the other nurse says, handing Stella to her mother.

“Wow,” my wife cries. “
This
is life.
This
is what makes me believe in fate.”

Gabriella kisses her daughters, first Nina then Stella and then looks up at me adoringly. The mother of my children is beautiful, even after twenty seven hours of labor and birthing six pound twins naturally.

“I’m in love.” Gabby beams, smiling through tears. “They are the two most beautiful creatures on the planet.”

“I’m looking at the
three
most beautiful creatures on the planet,” I correct. This sight is one I have already committed to memory. God damn it, this is nothing short of amazing.

Interrupting my special moment, a nurse returns to my wife’s side, nodding and handing some unknown instruments to the doctor who delivered the twins. “Everything all right?” I ask, concerned. These girls are my life, I need to know they’re safe.

“Everything’s perfect. She just needs a couple of stitches, Mr. Edwards. Why don’t you bond with your daughters for a few minutes while we take care of their mommy?”

Nodding like an over enthused bobble head, I scoop up one, then two of my precious babies from their mother. “I got them, Gabby. They’re safe with me. Let the doctor tend to you.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t go too far.”

It’s not like I can even if I wanted to. This place is like Fort Knox; all bracelets and security measures, and Nurse Ratched eye-balling me.

Cradling Nina and Stella in my arms, I stare into their puffy pink faces and tears threaten to escape. Anyone who knows me can tell you I’m a man’s man, but all that aside, I’m about to bawl like a baby. “You girls are so beautiful. Do you know that?” I ask as if they can answer me. Nina coos—do one-minute-olds coo?
Wow, what a genius!
And Stella keeps her eyes closed tight, lost somewhere in newborn dreamland.

“Daddy’s gonna get all mushy on you two for a minute so bear with me, okay?” Swallowing back the large lump at the base of my throat, I pour out every bit of emotion that needs to be said. “Your mother and I—we’ve known each other since she wasn’t much older than you. That’s a long time when you really think about it, yet we’re still so young and inexperienced according to a lot of people out there.” I rock my body from side to side—it just comes naturally while holding one in each arm—and they fit, like perfect pieces made to complete the puzzle their mother and I have created together.