Three Months Pregnant, I Left With His Twins Chapter 08

Three Months Pregnant, I Left With His Twins Chapter 08

“They look like you.”

That was the first thing Vivian said when she saw the two newborns.

The twins were born at thirty-seven weeks.

Two girls.

The first one came out crying loudly.

The second was quiet. The nurse had to pat her gently a couple of times before she let out a small sound.

Vivian waited outside the delivery room.

When she came in and saw them for the first time, her eyes turned red.

“It’s good they look like you.”

I said nothing.

She brushed the hair from my forehead.

“Your mother would be even happier than I am if she were still here.”

I didn’t speak. My nose stung.

“Have you picked names?”

“You choose.”

She thought for a moment.

“Iris Hart.”

“Eden Hart.”

“One like spring, one like a new beginning.”

“Beautiful names.”

“Then those are the ones.”

I spent my postpartum recovery in Vancouver.

Vivian hired a live-in nanny, a maternity nurse, and a nutritionist to manage my recovery meals.

She flew over to see me twice herself.

Each time she brought a whole box of things.

Food, supplies, baby items. Half the storage room was filled.

Fiona came over often to help and hold the babies.

“Where’s your husband?”

She asked once.

“I don’t have one.”

“What about the babies’ father?”

“He’s not in our lives.”

She could tell it wasn’t a topic to push, so she didn’t ask again.

Life settled into a new rhythm.

Washing bottles.

Making formula.

Waking up at three in the morning to crying.

Iris didn’t like drinking milk.

Eden didn’t like sleeping.

The two of them took turns wearing me out.

It was exhausting.

But it was real exhaustion.

Not the hollow exhaustion I used to live with.

Being with Nate, that tiredness was in my heart.

I couldn’t even explain where it came from. It just felt heavy.

Now when the babies cried, I comforted them.

When they were hungry, I fed them.

When they smiled, I smiled too.

Every bit of effort came back to me.

No guessing.

No waiting.

No wondering whether I mattered.

When the babies were three months old, I got an email.

Not from Nate.

The sender was Julian Mercer.

He was a researcher on one of the medical charity projects backed by Vivian’s foundation, doing postdoctoral work in Vancouver.

The email said Vivian had asked him to check in on me when he had time.

Very polite tone.

He included his phone number.

I replied:

“No need for now, thank you.”

Then I forgot about it.

Until one afternoon when I was pushing the stroller outside the apartment building to get some sun.

Eden wouldn’t stop crying.

Iris started fussing too.

I held Iris with one arm and pushed the stroller with the other.

My tote bag slipped, and the bottle rolled out.

A hand reached over, picked up the bottle, and wiped it clean.

“Ms. Hart? I’m Julian Mercer. Vivian asked me to check on you.”

He was slim, wearing glasses and a dark blue down jacket.

“Thank you.”

“Need any help?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

He looked at Iris in my arms, then at Eden screaming in the stroller.

He looked a little awkward but sincere.

“I’m just saying, if you need someone to push the stroller, I live in the building right next door.”

Iris was pulling my hair.

Eden’s cries were ear-piercing.

“Then help me push the stroller.”

He pushed while I carried Iris.

We walked for a bit. He didn’t say much.

At the apartment entrance, he helped lift the stroller up the steps.

“Call me if you need anything.”

Then he left.

He didn’t ask where the father was.

He didn’t linger.

He didn’t try to stay.

Fiona saw him leave from her window later and raised an eyebrow at me.

“He’s cute.”

“He works for Vivian’s company.”

“Single?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could find out.”

I ignored her and bent down to change Eden’s diaper.

Nate found me when the babies were four months old.

Maeve texted:

“He figured out you’re in Vancouver. I didn’t tell him.”

“Got it.”

“He said he’s coming. Just giving you a heads-up.”

I put the phone down and looked at the two little girls sleeping in their bouncers.

Iris had kicked off her blanket.

Eden was clutching her sister’s sleeve.

Their heads were touching.

They knew nothing.

And they didn’t need to.