My gaze flickered to Killian, who was sitting in a chair, holding our other daughter to his bare chest. She looked so tiny and vulnerable against his wide chest. But I knew without a doubt, that was where our daughter was the safest. It was almost like we were somehow connected; he looked up at the same time and our eyes locked. “She’s so perfect,” he mouthed.
I nodded tearfully. He cradled her tenderly, stroking a finger up and down her back in a soothing manner.
A tear slid down my scarred cheek as I caressed my baby’s fuzzy head. “You’re Gracelynn,” I told her. “You’re our blessing and named after the purest soul I knew.”
“And you’re Lydia,” Killian whispered, loud enough for me to hear. He was looking down at our daughter, completely awestruck by her tiny self. “Our beautiful, noble one.”
After a second, my husband’s eyes met mine and my heart stuttered.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you,” I breathed.
***
A week later
Once Cameron was sound asleep, I pressed a quick kiss to his forehead and I got off the bed. My stomach growled as I walked into the kitchen to find myself something to eat.
Killian would be coming home soon and then we’d go back to visit Gracelynn and Lydia. While I recovered in the hospital, I was able to spend most of my time in the NICU with my daughters. But when they were only six days old, I was officially deemed fully recovered and healthy, therefore I was discharged from the hospital. There was nothing more I wanted than to stay with them, but I couldn’t.
Cameron needed me. And his sisters had to stay in the NICU for almost two months before they were strong enough to come home.
Leaving our new babies at the hospital and coming home without her was a heartbreaking experience. I remembered crying all night long the first two days we got back home. I sobbed over the lost of Alina. And I cried over the fact that I couldn’t be with my babies twenty-four-seven.
Two weeks have passed and I still felt so… helpless. Pumping was what kept my sanity somewhat intact. It was the one thing that I could do as their mother, that was contributing to their growth and development.
I was chewing on a cold turkey sandwich as I scrolled through my messages. After I was discharged from the hospital, I deleted all my social media apps and I stopped going online. I didn’t want to know what they were saying about me anymore. I stopped caring because they would always find a reason to hate me. I had more important things to worry about now.
I was scrolling through my game apps when I accidently clicked on the news and before I swiped it away, a headline caught my attention.
My heart stuttered and I dropped my sandwich. It splattered messily onto the kitchen counter as I read the most recent news article. My stomach churned and with my heart in my throat, I fought against the urge to retch.
Oh God, what has Killian done?
Shock coursed through my veins and I was still staring at my phone with wide eyes when he walked through the door of our house. “I’m home,” he announced wearily.
He stalked into the kitchen, carelessly tugging on his tie before dropping it on the counter. I rounded on him before he could say anything else. “What is this?” I questioned sharply, showing him the screen of my phone.
Killian barely even looked at the article. He crowded into my space, pushing me back into the counter and our eyes locked. “I did what I had to do,” he said slowly, with complete confidence.
“You didn’t tell me,” I accused. “Why didn’t tell me? This is a huge decision, Killian. You withdrew from the presidential race!”
My heart was racing but he barely even flinched at my outburst. When my husband responded ever so calmly, I wanted to smack him. “I knew you’d read it on the news and I was coming home, to tell you just that.”
I shook my head before inhaling a shuddering breath. “Why?”
His lips twitched with a bittersweet smile. “I can’t lead a country that hates my wife and I refuse to raise our children in such a toxic environment.”
“I can’t let you walk away from the one thing you’ve worked so hard to achieve.” The tears streamed down my cheeks. “You spent two freaking decades working to get this point. To make yourself worthy of this opportunity. I won’t let you give it up for me. This is your dream,” I cried, pushing against his chest with my fists.
Killian’s arm snaked out and he gripped my hand, tugging me to him before his lips crashed against mine. He swallowed my cries and kissed away my gasp. His tongue drove into my mouth, tasting me. “You are my dream,” he rasped into my lips.
“Don’t do this,” I begged weakly. “You’ll regret it and then you’ll hate me.”
He lowered his forehead to mine. “I love my country but if I have to choose, I’ll always choose you. But you know what? I didn’t even have to choose because you’re my only choice, Julianna. Always and forever. Remember our vows?”
“I remember my vows. I said I’ll support you; in your dreams, in your achievements, I will be by your side. Always.”
Our hearts thudded to the same rhythm and my whole body was shaking. Killian pressed another tender kiss on my lips. “And you do support me. You always have. Our family is my dream.”
“I can’t let you sacrifice–”
“And I won’t sacrifice us for my own selfish ambitions.”
My fingers dug into his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat. There was utmost sincerity in his dark gaze and I searched for regret or disappointment, but found none. He was really serious about this. My shoulder slumped, the fight leaving me.
Killian curled his arms around me, holding me closer. Safe and warm in his arms. “Once Gracelynn and Lydia are discharged from the NICU, I’m taking you and our babies home, Princess.”
“I am home. With you. In your arms. I’m home, Killian.”
But I knew exactly what he meant.
We were going back to the island, away from this toxic environment and to a place where we belonged. Where we were happy and safe.
A place we could call home.
EPILOGUE
“Piece of crap,” I hissed at my car before kicking my flat tire. “Did you really have to give up on me today? I have an important interview!”
My car was practically a piece of junk but it wasn’t like I could afford much from a part-time babysitting job. And now I was probably going to be miss my interview.
I bent down to examine my tire more closely, only for my handbag to fly open, dumping all my contents onto the ground.
With a frustrated growl, I dropped my handbag next to the mess and then stomped to my trunk, taking out the jack and my spare tire. I could change a flat tire, except the only issue was that I wasn’t really good at it and it might take me more than ten minutes. Goddamn it, could this day get any worse?
“Excuse me, miss,” a deep voice called out from behind me. Heavy footsteps approached me and then his voice was much, much closer. “Do you need any help? It seems like you might be having a bad day. I can change the tires for you.”