“She’s at Drew’s father’s,” I remind him.
He grabs his coat. “Yeah, he told us to pop round, so we need to get moving.”
I place my hand in Jaxon’s. “Can you help me up, please?”
He gets up, taking my hand in his, whilst the other slides down my back, helping me stand.
“Jaxon, Jaxon, look at this,” Star yells, and he diverts his attention to Star and her present.
I head over to Landon in the hallway, where he and Max are huddled together in a quiet conversation. “Dad, you really are the best father we could wish for, but the first time you brag about it, I’ll deny it and take it back.”
Max grips his son around his neck and pulls him in for a hug. “Got you.”
Spotting me, Landon nods. “Give me two minutes to say goodbye to Mum and I’ll come say goodbye.”
I nod, and once he leaves, I turn back to Max.
“You okay there?” he asks, leaning against the banister.
I rub a hand over my stomach as I answer. “Max, back there, did you, um, did you really think you could be anything like him?” I ask softly. I don’t want to overstep. I never do. But I need to know the answer.
He rubs the back of his neck, grimacing. “Not in the way you’re thinking. I’d never hurt a child—let alone my own—and I’d never raise a hand to my wife. I rarely raise my voice.”
“Then what did you mean?” I ask softly.
He lets out a heavy breath, his gaze quickly going to the living room. “It means I share his DNA. The small part of me that kind of freaked out over having triplets, let other fears surface, and I freaked. I was so worried I’d fuck up, just like him. I guess being told you aren’t good enough for most of your life really does leave you with scars.”
I space out for a moment. “Yeah, I get that,” I murmur.
He steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders, jerking me from my dark thoughts. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” I ask, unable to meet his gaze.
“You are nothing like her.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears as I meet his gaze. “But what if I mess up but in another way? We all know I have issues. I—”
“She had six kids, Lily, and out of us all, you are the best of us. You might have scars, but they haven’t darkened your soul. You are pure, beautiful, and this child couldn’t wish for a better parent.”
“Max,” I rasp, reaching for his hand.
“He’s right,” Dad interrupts, startling me and I drop Max’s hand. “And I get that you’re scared, but I never want to hear you doubt yourself again. You are the best of us. And you are going to be a fantastic mum.”
I step into his embrace, wrapping my arms around him. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, baby girl, so please, stop breaking your father’s heart by thinking that way.”
“It’s hormones,” I tell him, wiping under my eyes before stepping up to Max, hugging him too. “And for what it’s worth, you could never be anything but you.”
Max grips me a little tighter before pulling back, his grin wide and filled with smugness. “There’s only one me.”
“Thank God,” Dad mutters.
Something inside me shifts, and I stare at my uncle, losing my smile. “We only need you.”
“I knew I was your favourite,” he announces.
I shake my head. “Don’t start that again please. I had a migraine for a week after you guys kept claiming you were the favourite. You are all my favourites.”
He winks. “Yeah, okay.”
I laugh, glancing away as Landon comes back, his hand tucked around Paisley’s. “We’re heading off.”
“Thank you for coming,” I tell him, before turning to Paisley. “And thank you for finding those gingerbread houses.”
“Yeah, I’d, um, go make sure Max doesn’t finish them off.”
I turn to where my uncle was just standing and find the spot empty. How does he do that?
Dad laughs, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “You should be used to it by now.”
“It’s for the kids,” I groan.
Landon grimaces. “Yeah, um, I got hungry again, so I had a bit too.”
I shove my face into Dad’s chest a little, my shoulders shaking as I fight back laughter. “It’s fine.”
He leans down, giving me a peck on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
We say our goodbyes and I turn to Dad. “I’m sorry about before.”
“Don’t be. Just know we love you, and if you ever need to talk, we are here. Just please, never think those thoughts about yourself.”
“Max, don’t eat that. It’s for the kids,” Lake yells from the living room.
Dad glances down at me, grimacing. “I need to go sort him out.”
“Go. I’ll be in, in a second,” I tell him, forcing a smile.
As soon as he leaves, I press my hand against the door, breathing in and out as pain slices down my back.
Deep breaths.
Deep breaths.
*** *** ***
Jaxon and I are sitting in bed, me cuddled up to his side as the Christmas movie plays on the television. Popcorn fills the bowl in front of us, so do other various treats, from candy canes to chocolates and crackers.
This is how I want us to end all future Christmas Eve’s.
The pains in my stomach have finally ebbed away. The midwife warned me before that my Braxton hicks could come back. I guess the stress of wanting everything to be perfect brought them on. But it’s over.
And now; now I’m in my happy place: alone with my husband, curled up, watching a movie with our cats snuggled at our feet.
Pure bliss.
“Did you have a good day, Angel?”
I tilt my head up, smiling. “The best. The kids were so happy, even Miah.”
“They were. Miah got a PlayStation, so why wouldn’t he be?”
“I think we could have gotten him socks again and he would still have been happy.”
His hand curls over my shoulder. “True. He’s a good kid.”
A yawn slips past my lips, and I shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m still tired after sleeping in late and taking that nap.”
“The book said you will get more tired the further along you get. You’ve been running around for weeks now, double checking everything is ready for the baby and then getting ready for Christmas.”
I bite my lower lip. “I’m worried I’ll miss something.”
He shifts until he’s lying down beside me. He tucks my hair behind my ear. “It won’t matter if you do, because we’ll sort it, Lily.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, my mind wandering.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, taking my hand.
I meet his gaze. “I’ve been carrying him or her for nine months, and yet, I still can’t believe that in a few days, he or she will be making an appearance. I guess after hearing everyone else’s story, it’s really hitting me. This is real. We are going to be parents. I’m going to be a mum.”
“And you are going to be a fantastic mum.”
I rebuff his comment. “I hope they look like you. I want our baby to have your hair, your eyes, and your smile. I want him or her to be just like you,” I declare.