It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 25

MARK

My knee bounces next to hers as she absently scrolls her phone, with an empty pee cup resting between her legs.

She’s shutting down on me. I can feel it. She’s right here, but miles away. The timing of this meeting in New York couldn’t be worse, but according to Rob, I don’t have a choice. I either need to sign with the Liberties or let them know I’m seeking other offers.

I know what I want. I want out of the city and an offer from a decent-standing team I can take to the Super Bowl, but I have to hear what they’re offering. The Liberties organization has been good to me, and I need to give them the courtesy of telling them no to their face and explaining why.

The door swings open, and a woman enters with a car seat slung over her arm. A baby with soft pink cheeks in those footed, zip-up jammies is tucked inside.

A warm sensation crawls through my chest at the idea of that being us. Lex and I. My stomach squeezes with pressure and the deep desire to get this right. I don’t want to be in one place and Lex in another. I don’t want to watch my baby grow from afar. Being gone so much during the season will be bad enough. When I get home, I want them there, where we can be together.

My knee bounces harder, and it gets Lex’s attention. She side-eyes me, but that’s it. Her silent, retreated tendencies are about to send me into a grown-ass meltdown.

“Alexandra. ”

Thank God. A technician waits for us, and we follow her back to a small, darkened room.

“I’m April. I’ll be performing your ultrasound today.” The woman zips around the room, keeping pace with my nerves. She gestures to the table. “You can climb up here, and Dad, you can have a seat.”

Dad . More sitting is the last thing I need, but I put my ass in the plastic chair as the pressure of it all pushes past my limit.

Lex sits on the table, still looking like she doesn’t need me, and it stings.

April pulls her file while I try not to be suffocated by my anxiety. “So, you’re around fourteen weeks. This is your first ultrasound?”

“Uh, yes. I know I’m a bit behind.” Lex’s hand reaches for her ear. Ha. Gotcha . I catch her and her nervous habit. Feeling a little less alone, I scoot my chair closer.

The technician smiles while I’m about to jump out of my skin.

“Well, let’s see who you have in there. Hopefully, the little one cooperates, and we’ll get some good pictures,” April says, holding Lex’s file and a pen. “Do you want to know the gender when it’s visible?”

“No,” I blurt out, and Lex’s head snaps in my direction. Then, the corner of her mouth tips upward, but just barely. We didn’t discuss it, but this baby is the absolute best surprise of my life, and I want to keep the surprises coming.

Lex lays down and pulls her shirt up to her ribs while April squirts clear goop on her stomach. My eyes dart to the small screen on the wall, waiting, but all I see is black with white streaks as she rolls the wand back and forth.

My heart bangs against my ribs, threatening to beat all the way out of my chest. I move to the edge of my seat, having no idea what I’m looking at but knowing it’s something.

April takes her time moving the wand around from one spot to another, only the sound of my pulse filling the silence. April’s long, quiet perusal forces me to my feet, and Lex’s instincts must be on high alert because she reaches for me.

I grip her sweat-slicked hand, and when her eyes meet mine, they’re alive with fear. I bring her hand to the middle of my chest and hold it there. Her eyes flick between mine as her hand tightens its grip. I try to smile, wanting her to know everything will be ok when I have absolutely no clue that it is.

“This is your first ultrasound, correct?” April asks, again in confirmation, but still in that calm, chipper tone.

“Yes,” Lex answers, her hand squeezing mine even tighter. I’ve been scared before, but this moment shreds all those fears to dust.

“You see this right here.” April gestures to the pointer on the screen. “It looks like . . . ” She moves the wand around some more. “You’re having twins.”

Some kind of noise comes out of my mouth that might sound like I was being held underwater and yanked back up for air.

Uh . . . what? I feel a little woozy. I might need that chair after all, but Lex’s hand falling limp in mine, spurs me to remain standing.

April rolls closer to the screen and points. “See right here. This is Baby A.” She taps away on her keyboard, telling us she’s taking measurements.

I squint, seeing it. The head and tiny, little feet, and two hands. I look down at Lex, and a tear falls out of the corner of her eye.

“Is it ok?” Lex asks, her voice shaky.

“It’s measuring a tad on the small side, but that’s not unusual for twins. Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

It only takes a second for the screen to fill with color and the room with the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Something deep in my chest blooms so full it’s possible it might explode; everything inside me splattering this chilly, dark space.

I lean down, kissing Lex’s forehead as something warm drips from my cheek. She smiles, and her hand slides around my neck to hold me there.

“We’re going to do the same with Baby B,” April says.

I can only watch as baby number two fills the screen. Baby. Number. Two. I see its head, hands, and feet. We listen to the strong heartbeat, and for the second time, it’s like I’ve learned how to breathe again.

Two babies. Twins. Lex and I are having twins. Dos. Double. Bambinos.

April puts her wand away and wipes Lex’s belly off. “Congratulations. Your babies are looking healthy and strong.” She hands Lex a long strip of black-and-white pictures as she pulls her shirt down and hops off the table .

We follow April down the hall to another room, where we’re bombarded with pamphlets and forms about genetic testing, cord banking, breastfeeding, and vaccinations.

Her face falls, and her shoulders slump as she collects one piece of literature after another. It’s a posture I remember, and I slide my arm around her, taking the forms and letting the doctor know we’ll review it all and get back to them.

Lex’s stoic face has me only partially listening as the doctor talks about birth plans and options. All I want to do is take our reusable bag, crammed full of every imaginable tidbit about childbirth, and get Lex out of here so I can understand what’s going through her head.

After making her next appointment, we hit the cold winter air, and I grab her hand. “I’ll drive.”

She hands over her keys, not arguing. At the passenger door, I stop her from climbing in, turning her to face me. I don’t quite know her like I used to, but I recognize this part of Lex. When she feels like the world is closing in or the fear gets too big, she shrinks, closing herself within. I need to be inside the iron-barred gates she’s dropping into place.

I pull her close, my arms wrapping around her back. She tucks her head into my chest, and I hold her tight. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” I want her to hear me and believe it. “It’s you and me. It’s always been you and me.” Her fingers dig into the back of my coat like she’s holding on for dear life. “It’s going to be you and me and our babies.”

Babies. Two babies. I didn’t have any kind of example of what it means to be a good parent, but these babies will get all of me—the very best I can give them.

I know she needs a second, so I release her, and she climbs in the truck. I drive us back to Cal’s house with nothing but dread, knowing I have to leave her when we just got the best overwhelming news of our life. We had a lot to figure out before, and now it’s doubled.

______

It’s been sixty-four minutes of nods, ‘yeses,’ and ‘noes,’ and she’s given me nothing. I place the last of my stuff in my suitcase and sit beside her on the end of the bed, my patience sputtering on fumes .

Grabbing her hand, I entwine her fingers with mine, wanting her to feel the connection. “I need you to talk to me. I can’t leave like this.”

She rests her head on my shoulder but doesn’t say anything. I’ve kept my nerves mostly under control, but they start to count off one by one, taking a nosedive off a ledge. The distance between us feels far and wide, and I can’t handle it. Flashbacks of eight years ago singe the edges of my mind, and I have to fan them out before they burn me alive all over again.

I wait with as much calm coolness as a mildly dramatic person can have for her to give me something.

“I don’t know where to start,” she whispers.

“Start anywhere. I don’t care. I just need something.” I kiss the back of her hand. “A sign, smoke signal, pigeon carrier with a clue. Anything that will help me understand what’s going on in here.” I kiss her forehead.

Her chest rises slowly, then falls with a exhale. “When the technician didn’t say anything at first, I . . . ” She doesn’t have to finish that sentence because I know. “What if something happens to them? Like I do something I shouldn’t and . . . ” She sits up straight, pulling away and shifting to face me. “Them, Mark. Them. Two. No wonder I’m huge already, and I have a long way to go.”

“You’re not huge. You’re perfect and sexy as hell. If you want, I’ll show you just how much I think so.”

Her head falls to the side, pure sadness taking over, and it’s enough to split me in two. “How am I going to have two babies in here?” She gestures around the room. “I mean, I thought that with one, but now, two of . . . everything.”

She swallows, gulping down a mountain of emotions.

My stomach drops to the floor and bounces up into my throat at her thinking about the babies being here. Some miraculous force holds my mouth shut, knowing this isn’t the time to point out that I think that idea is total and complete shit.

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing. It’ll take me an entire month to try to piece together all the papers and information they gave us. Who’s going to teach them to read and help them with their homework? What if they have the same issues I do?”

Her voice quivers, but I force myself to sit tight, giving her space to get it all out. “And my job. I can’t work. Grandpa will pay me to sit and deal with customers but . . . Eventually, the guys will have to roll me around in his awful, old chair that probably won’t even hold me. I’m having dinner with my mom, and she’ll add to the list of all the ways in which I will never be able to care for these babies.”

A tear makes a slow track down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb and push it away. “All these damn hormones,” she groans. “And you’re leaving. We aren’t any closer to knowing how any of this is actually going to work!”

Her chest rises and falls quickly, having shoved it all out.

“Shit, Lex. That’s a lot.”

She puts her hands over her face and falls back on the bed. She sniffs, and I lie down next to her, slipping my arm over her and moving close.

I tuck a strand of her long hair behind her ear. “When the technician kept rolling her magic wand and not saying a damn word, I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my entire life. She should be fired for that long period of silence.” Lex fists my shirt and buries her head into my chest. “We can’t control everything. All we can do is love and protect them as best as we can.”

“Mark, we’re having two babies.” She tips her head back. Her eyes crease with tears, and her lips turn up into the sweetest smile. “We made two babies.”

“When you showed up, and I saw you were pregnant, I thought it was the best day of my life. Baby, today, it doesn’t get any better than this.” I slide my hand into her hair. “You have no idea how much I don’t want to leave right now.”

She snuggles into my neck. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Come with me. I’ll go to my meeting, show you the city, and then we’ll head back to Phoenix. Next weekend, we’ll go to Charlotte for the awards and the game and celebrate with my family.”

She rolls back, her eyes searching mine as if she’s thinking about it. “I can’t go with you, at least not tonight. I need to talk to my mom and find out what Grandpa will allow me to do. I have to . . . deal with some stuff.” It sucks, but I understand her need to stay. “Maybe . . . I can meet you in Charlotte?”

I smile. “How about I pick you up on the way?” She rolls back into me, sliding her arms around my back, and we lay there for the last bit before she has to take me to the airport .

Our drive to the airport is filled with silence and so many unanswered questions. Her comments about where all the baby stuff will go at Cal’s eat at me, but I have no idea where my home will be and no permanent place to offer her.

The late afternoon sun beams down, warming the cold Midwest air as she pulls her truck into a parking spot and climbs out. She comes around to my side, and I scoop her up.

“You said you trusted me.” I press my lips to her cheek and leave them there. “Lex, I need you to trust me. I have to do this, but baby, I’m not leaving you.” I release her, and her eyes are everywhere but on me. “Look at me.” I hold her face in my hands. “I know I keep saying we’ll figure this all out, and we will. I have to know where I’m going, but I want you and our babies with me wherever that is. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

She doesn’t respond but only hugs me tight, and I can’t allow myself to think it means anything other than it’s what she wants, too.

“I’ll call you tonight. Ok?”

She pulls away just enough to push up and press her lips to mine. I hold her, making sure it doesn’t feel like goodbye, but I’ll be back. Because I will. I’ll see her in a week, but once I get my job sorted out, I’m coming to get her and my babies for good.