The Langfield Brothers: Box Set

3. Millie

THREE

MILLIE

“We’re pregnant.” The words echo as everyone in the living room gets up to congratulate Brooks and Sara. They ping-pong through my mind even as I take one step after another toward them, first hugging Brooks and then smiling at Sara and throwing my arms around her.

From the outside, I’m doing everything I should. No one can see the panic slithering inside my brain. Words like “hostile uterus” and “infertility” don’t leave my lips, but they dance through my head on repeat even while I smile and laugh about pregnancy symptoms and a new house.

I have a family already. Vivi and Gavin should be enough. They are enough. Yet I still feel like a failure. I’m only twenty-seven; my body should be cooperating. And it is my body that’s the problem. Given Gavin’s age, forty-five, his sperm was tested first. He’s got plenty and everything’s in fine working order.

Me, on the other hand…the chances of me getting pregnant naturally have been dwindling every time we see the doctor. At first it was fun: have lots of sex. That’s our specialty. Kinky sex, quickies, shower sex, slow sex, dirty sex—you name it, we’ve done it all, and not a single round ended with me knocked up.

“You okay?” The question comes from Sienna who’s sitting beside me. I don’t even remember walking over to the couch and sitting back down.

I glance over into her green eyes and frown. “That obvious?”

The famous fashion designer shakes her head, her expression warm but not patronizing. “No, but I know you and what you’re going through. I can’t imagine it’s easy going through this even if I know you’re happy for them.” It’s hard to believe Sienna is only two years older than me considering all she’s accomplished. Even so, when she’s around her family or me and the girls, she acts like she’s just another Langfield. Don’t get me wrong, all of the Langfields are recognizable and accomplished, but that is mostly only in the Boston area or in the sports world. Sienna is internationally famous. Her show was a hit on Netflix and was streamed in every single home in the US and Europe. She can’t walk down the street without being stopped. The paparazzi are brutal. But in this house, on Sundays when it’s just family, she’s the same person she was for the year I worked with her in her little studio, preparing designs for the line that blew her up worldwide.

“I am happy for them,” I say emphatically. God, I hope they know that. I hope Sara knows that I’ve wished for this for her and Brooks just as much as I’ve wished for it myself. I want to have babies at the same time with her. We spend a tremendous amount of time together, and she’s an excellent auntie to Vivi. And Brooks, god that man is going to be an amazing father. I’m genuinely happy for them. But that doesn’t stop me from being sad for myself.

My eyes scan the room, and when I find Gavin standing in the corner, his brothers all huddled together, talking and laughing, our gazes collide. He’s not laughing with them, though he is trying to feign a smile. No, my husband’s focus is entirely on me.

The broken one. The woman who can’t seem to give him another child.

He knows me well enough to stay where he is. If Gavin came over to check in on me, I’d probably break down. The distance, and the fact that I’m here in front of everyone, is the only thing that’s keeping me together.

I won’t cry in front of them all. If Sienna can go through everything she has in the last few months and not break down, I can handle this hiccup.

“Let’s get some fresh air.” Sienna doesn’t wait for me to reply. She didn’t even ask; she just stands and starts walking, knowing I’ll follow.

Gavin frowns as I get up, and though I know he wants to follow me, he doesn’t. He knows I know he’s there if I need him. But right now, Sienna’s right: I need fresh air and a break from all the joy.

Outside, we find the kids playing on the swing set. Winnie’s pushing June on a swing, and Vivi and Maggie are both going in and out of a plastic house that Beckett had made to look just like the Barbie Dreamhouse. Addie and Finn are playing roller hockey on the blacktop that Beckett begrudgingly setup since both of the kids are obsessed with the sport. Vivi loves coming over to play with her cousins because they really do have the best toys.

And there’s more of them. Sisters, a brother, Deogi, their oversized monster of a dog, hell they even have Junior the raccoon. That doesn’t even include Liv’s best friends' kids, who all live in the neighborhood too, and are always running into the backyard or the house to play.

Vivi is the only child that lives in the Pad. She has plenty of toys, and the team spoils her like crazy, but it’s not the same.

“I wish I could give her this,” I admit. It’s said so quietly I’m not sure if I’m really even telling Sienna or more just accepting that fact myself.

“Being an only child isn’t so bad,” Sienna muses.

“Says the girl who has four older brothers.”

She laughs. “Exactly.” Turning around, she looks back toward the house. “I love them, and I probably wouldn’t be where I am today without them, but I also wouldn’t be where I am today without them .”

My lips twist because there’s nothing I can say to that. I know she’s in a bad place because of Beckett, not that she even raised her voice after everything went to shit. She wouldn't have gotten the chance to do any of it without him, she told me. At least she got to experience it all.

But I know deep down she’s devastated. That she hates how angry she is with her older brothers. Not one of them took her side. They don’t understand the devastation of being forced home and not choosing it. Of your life changing without being given an option or even a say in where you land.

As soon as Vivi spots me, her eyes light up, and my little curlicue bestie is rushing in our direction. “Mommy! Mommy! Did you see the purple car? Can I ride in it now that you’re here?”

Vivi always talks a mile a minute, kind of like her Aunt Sara. And she prefers pink like her Auntie Lennox.

Not a single one of us is her blood, but she’s my daughter and their niece. Maybe Sienna’s right. Being an only child isn’t terrible, and Vivi and Gavin are more than enough.

“You’ve been quiet all night,” Gavin says as I walk into our bedroom later that evening. Vivi is always exhausted after a Sunday with her cousins.

And dirty.

It’s amazing the places that children hold dirt. Fingernails, behind the ears, on the belly.

She barely stayed awake as I bathed her, but as soon as I laid her down in bed, she perked up and asked for a story.

I’m tired and not in a place to actually discuss what I think Gavin wants to right now. “It was a long day,” I say simply, heading toward the bathroom in need of a hot shower before bed.

I leave the bathroom door open as I always do and begin to get undressed. When I reach for my panties, my hand pauses on my belly, which feels a bit swollen from all the drugs I’ve been injecting into my body. The swell of my stomach is a cruel tease, offering the image in both the mirror and my mind of what I’d look like a few months pregnant, but it’s cause is nothing but pain.

When I look up, I find Gavin standing behind me, his expression inscrutable, his jaw tight. “I feel like you’re disappearing on me again.” His voice is pained, desperation lancing every word.

“I’m right here,” I say to his reflection. Then I turn to him as if to drive home my point. I press my hands to his chest, raise my chin, and look him right in the eye.

“Talk to me, Peaches.” Brown eyes search my own as if he thinks my expression will give him more than my mouth. He may be right.

“I don’t want to do another round of in vitro next month.”

Gavin’s brows pull together. “I’m forty-five. If you want this, we can’t wait too long.”

“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t want it. Not like this.” I press my thumb to the space between his brows, trying to ease the tension there. “Not at the expense of us. Vivi deserves two parents who are present and happy. We’re neither of those things right now. We’re ghosts of ourselves, just waiting for the next month, hoping for a different outcome. We don’t even have sex now without thinking are we at the right angle to get me pregnant.’” I sigh in exasperation. “We have a beautiful daughter who is healthy and happy and loves us. She’s enough.”

Gavin frowns. “Of course she is.”

Emotion clogs my words. “But am I? I’m failing you and you deserve more children if you want them; you’re not the one who’s broken.”

Gavin sweeps me into his arms and holds me so fiercely I can focus on nothing but the pounding of our two hearts. Both of them erratic and wild, crying out for one another. “You are not broken. And you and Vivi are more than enough, Peaches. You are the love of my life. The only reason I ever even wanted kids to begin with. A life with you is all I need.”

Tears coast down my cheeks and Gavin becomes a blur. “I don’t just want you, I need you,” I admit.

Gavin is more than the love of my life. He was my salvation years ago when I was struggling. And then, when Vivi came into my life, she gave me purpose. Being her mother and his wife…they are so much a part of me and two of the things I’m most proud of in my life. I have a wonderful career, my debut album did well, and I’ve been slowly writing this year, but none of that compares to what we have in this apartment. It’s the most sacred of spaces because of the two people who own my heart. Because we worked hard for both of these relationships. We fought to make Vivi our own. And we fought like hell for our love.

I won’t give up even an ounce of his or her happiness for the possibility of more. And I don’t want to give up more of myself. Already, I can feel the way the medicine affects me. How my moods shift and my body aches. If Gavin wanted it, and we didn’t have Vivi, I’d do anything he asked because I love this man and want him to have everything. But I know my husband, and we do have Vivi; sacrificing their happiness is not something I’m willing to bargain with any longer.

“Oh Peaches, you know you have me. You’ve owned me since the day we first met.”

A smile forms on my lips as I remember every moment from that first night. “When you took my virginity.”

His lips tip up in that cocky smirk of his, and my belly swoops in excitement over what will come out of his mouth next. “Oh, I didn’t have to take anything. It was mine the moment we locked eyes. Just like you were.”

Somehow, in the next few moments, we manage to undress, and then he’s walking us into the shower, our mouths fused.

Us. It’s exactly what I need.

Desperate sex. Clinging to one another. Sex because we can’t help but be one. Because we can’t get close enough. We want to live inside one another.

For five years this man has owned me. When he’s in the room, I want him near. When he’s not, I crave him.

Without any words, he presses me against the cool tiles in the shower and thrusts into me. To this day, my body still needs a moment to adjust to his size. To the way that he takes me. It’s all consuming how he fills me. How his lips lock with mine as he does. How he holds me up while also thrusting slowly.

He’s got me. I know that. No matter what I need, the man finds a way to give it to me. Earlier I needed space, and he let me have it for hours. And now, in one of my weaker moments, I need him. “Tell me I’m enough,” I beg.

I know my husband won’t ever leave me. I know Vivi and I are his world. But that doesn’t make the ache disappear. Doesn’t make the insecurities vanish. Or the yearning to be everything he deserves.

Gavin pauses his thrusts and stares deep into my eyes. “I want you to watch how I fuck up into you, Peaches. I want you to see the way my body needs you. The way you open for me. I know I’m your one and only, so you don’t know this, but baby, it’s not always like this. In fact it’s never been like this for me with anyone but you. You’re not only enough, you’re it . Without you, I’m not enough. Without us, my life was a shallow void.” His gaze turns down to where he enters me and I follow and watch as his thick cock slides in and out of me. Somehow, watching makes the feel of it even grander. Watching how he stretches me. How he powers into me. How we fit.

“I love you,” I whisper, and then his lips are on mine again, and his hips move faster, his thrusts aimed at the spot he knows will have me crying out his name. Not the spot that will impregnate me. No. This is about us. About the pleasure only he can give me. About him expressing his love for me through action, and as my orgasm takes over, our love pulses between us. And then seconds later, he fills me too, going over the edge of the abyss together. He’s right. Nothing else would ever be like this. Nothing compares.