“Twins,” she replies.

I stumble slightly, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Fucking hell. Twins! What am I going to do with twins?

“You okay?” There’s laughter in her voice.

“Oh, you think this is funny, huh? I’m good, just a little shocked. When did you find out?”

“Last week. It’s been killing me keeping it from you, but I wanted to tell you in a special way.”

I place my lips on hers and show her what I can’t express verbally. “How far along are you?” I ask when I pull away.

“I’m six weeks now.”

“How are you feeling? Have you been sick? Are the babies okay?” I start rambling off question after question, causing her to laugh again. I’m glad she finds me amusing tonight.

“I’m fine,” she says through her giggles. “No major sickness and the babies look great.”

I’m relieved to hear they’re doing well. “Twins,” I repeat, still trying to wrap my mind around it. Her only response is to laugh at me again. “Enough laughing, come over her so I can make love to my wife.” And she does.

I was wrong earlier when I said life doesn’t get much better than this, because it did.

A whole lot better.

But I have a feeling I’ll be saying that quite often in the new chapter of my life, and I can’t wait.

ELIZABETH

10 YEARS LATER

“LOOKS GOOD, SWEETHEART,” Bryce says from behind me, arms wrapping around my waist.

“Thanks. I hope they like it,” I reply, looking down at the cake I had a local bakery decorate.

“I wasn’t talking about the cake.” He kisses the exposed skin on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. To this day, I still get butterflies in my stomach when he touches me. I often wonder if that feeling will go away with time, but after ten years it hasn’t, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I huff in fake annoyance and nudge him in the ribs. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Yeah, but you love my perverted ways,” he says into my ear, grinding his hips into me.

“Down boy. Go get the kids and everyone else, and tell them the cake is ready.”

“Oh come on, we have time for a quickie. Everyone is outside; we have the house to ourselves . . .”

“And all our family and friends. Not to mention a bunch of screaming kids in the backyard. Now shoo.” I wave him off and start putting candles on the cake.

“You’re no fun,” he mutters. Glancing up at him, I see the biggest pout on his face. It makes me laugh.

“Play your cards right, Mr. Daniels, and you can have me when the party’s over.” I bite my lip suggestively, earning me a low growl.

“That’s it. The party is over. I’m sending everyone home.” He moves quickly to the door like he’s about to tell everyone to leave.

“You will not, now go round everyone up so we can have some cake.”

Today is the twins’ birthday party. I still can’t believe they’re nine years old. Everyone always tells you to cherish every moment because it goes by so fast, but I didn’t really understand what they meant until I had kids of my own. A few months after the wedding, we went to find out the gender of the babies. We didn’t care what we had, as long as they were healthy. When they told us we were having one boy and one girl, I was over the moon. I started crying instantly, the feeling so overwhelming. It was really happening. I was going to be a mother to two kids that would be adored and cherished by both parents.

All of our family and friends are here today to help us celebrate. It’s a great feeling to have people surround us that love and support us. I had gone so long without it and didn’t realize how much I needed it. Bryce’s family is absolutely amazing. True to his word, they were very nice and welcomed me with open arms. I’ll never forget how nervous I was to meet them. My history with in-laws isn’t exactly stellar, but they made me feel right at home and the anxiety quickly washed away. I had expected them to judge me with everything in the news involving Cal’s death, but they didn’t. I was surprised by how quickly I became close to his parents, Christina and Walter, and his sister, Angela. Every day I feel blessed to be a part of their family.

I have friends now. Actual, real friends who are there for me. I was pretty closed off once I got on my own and even when I moved in with Bryce. But once I started my job as a teacher, I slowly opened up to some of the girls there. At first, it was such a foreign feeling. I was so used to being this fake person in front of other women, or associating with people that benefited Cal that I forgot what it was like to have a glass of wine and just talk and laugh. These girls have become the sisters I never had and my life is more complete with them in it.

Inserting the eighteenth candle into the cake—nine for Alex, nine for Matt, I step back and look at it.

Happy 9 th birthday Alex and Matt.

I never knew how hard it would be to name our kids. There’s a lot of pressure involved with what seems like such a monumental task. I mean, this is what they’ll be called for the rest of their lives. What if they end up hating it? What if they get teased? Bryce and I went back and forth for a long time, never agreeing on anything. One day, I made a joke about using his cover name, but instead of Alex, name our daughter Alexandria. He actually considered it and those were the names we settled on. Alexandria and Matthew, or Alex and Matt for short. Now we kind of look at it as a tribute to how Bryce and I found each other, so it fits.

All the kids come barreling in through the house, sounding like a herd of buffalo. Alex and Matt sit down at the kitchen island as I light the candles. Their eyes light up with excitement as the glow from the flames illuminates their faces.

“You ready to make your birthday wish?” Bryce asks them. They nod enthusiastically in response. I love watching my husband with our kids. He’s so attentive and caring, but it’s the way that he looks at them that melts my heart. Everyone identifies love as a feeling, but when he looks at the twins, it becomes a tangible thing that’s reflected in his eyes. It’s like you can see it. Some object you can grab and hold on to.

“Okay, one . . . two . . . three.” Everyone joins in and sings Happy Birthday to them, but I’m lost in memory. All nine years of their lives flashes in front of me. I’m amazed at everything we’ve been through and experienced. All of the good and challenging times. All the love and fun.

The pregnancy was difficult. I’d wake up a lot at night drenched in sweat, terrified that my babies had been taken from me again. Bryce was there for me each time, helping me breathe through my panic attack. I felt like I had failed our first child by not protecting it and I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it happen again. He suggested I go to therapy to try to work through some of the fear that haunted me, and it helped. The therapist made me realize that there wasn’t anything I could have done differently that would have changed the outcome of what happened. Cal was a sick, twisted, evil man and I was just as much a victim as our unborn child. Looking at them now—healthy, active, and loving—it makes the worries almost seem silly.

We all clap as the song ends and Matt and Alex take in a lung full of air before blowing out their own nine candles on each side of the cake.

“Did you make a wish?” Bryce asks them.

“Yeah,” they reply.

“What’d you wish for?”

“Daddy, we can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” Alex informs him. She has this ‘duh’ look on her face that cracks me up. That child is sassy and knows exactly what she wants from life, and I’m with her every step of the way in encouragement.

“Well excuse me.” He holds his hands up in surrender and we laugh. She definitely gets her attitude from her daddy.