Triplets Make Five

Her hunched shoulders told me everything I needed to know.

“Look. Women like me, we don’t get chances with men like you. Even though you serially date and brag about how you tear companies to shreds in the media, we still know what men like you bring to the table. Fantasy. Muscles. A smooth tongue and the ability to spoil us for the night. Women like me…we don’t get that. We get the desperate men too drunk at last call to see how wide our hips really are until they wake up the next morning.”

I watched a tear run down her cheek again and I reached out for her. I wanted to comfort her. To draw her close and let her know everything was going to be okay. She was out on a ledge, exposed to the world. Like a raw nerve being battered by a scratching fingernail.

“You don’t know how many men have woken up to me and-”

I felt my blood boiling as my mind finished that statement with so many different things.

“Anyway. I didn’t just leave because I was ashamed. That really wasn’t it at all. Not the majority of it. Part of it was shame for sleeping with some playboy who willingly discarded women like he did cars, but part of it was fear. Fear that you would wake up and be ashamed of me before I could be ashamed of you. That you would open your eyes and realize what you had done and…”

“And what, Delilah? Finish that statement.”

“And kick me out,” she said breathlessly. “I was terrified you would kick me out after making me feel so good. You have to understand, Preston. You standing by the woman you got pregnant looks noble, but I still look like the desperate accountant-slash-secretary. I can’t ruin my career over you. I’ve worked too hard at this job for too many years to lose it because I decided that one evening of unbridled passion couldn’t hurt anything.”

“I get it,” I said. “I do.”

“Do you really?” she asked as she turned towards me. “Do you really get it?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t. And I’ll never truthfully claim to. But I do understand not wanting to ruin your career over someone. Trust me when I tell you that. So whatever decision you make on how you want to navigate this situation, I’ll support. Just know that I’m here for you, and that I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you need. Whatever I can provide for you and these kids, I will.”

I reached out for her hand and she looked down at it. The same gesture that had gotten us into this mess seven weeks ago was now the same gesture that would bind us for fuck-knew-how long. I watched her eyes fall to my hand as she giggled, her head shaking with the irony of it all as I wiggled my fingers.

“All you have to do is take my hand,” I said.

“That’s what got us into the situation,” Delilah said with a grin.

“And now, it’s what’ll help you get through it.”

She looked up into my eyes and I lost myself in them. Their hazel tint that had followed her out here was slowly settling back into a sky blue color. Her anger was fading as I watched them change right before my eyes, mesmerizing by their appearance. That was what Delilah did to me. She mesmerized me in ways no other woman had. And now she was standing here, wrapped in my coat and carrying three fucking children at once.

Holy hell, that was going to take awhile to choke down.

“Okay,” she said as she slipped her hand into mine.

Then I brought her hand up to my lips to kiss. One last gesture before I dropped her off. One last chance to taste her skin before I could no longer feel her underneath my lips. One more chance to convince her to let me take her home and give her the pleasure I knew could take her mind off all this.

But all she did was pull her hand from mine before she handed my coat back to me.

“Platonic,” Delilah said. “That’s my decision.”

“Whatever you need, Miss Kent. Whatever you need.”

Sixteen

Preston

It took me the entire weekend to digest what Delilah had told me over dinner. I lied awake in bed for more hours than I slept, tossing and turning as my mind filled with worry. How was she? Was she sick? Did she have someone there if she slipped and fell? Was she craving things yet? Could I get her something to eat?

Would she even let me do something like that?

Every time I picked up my cell phone I had to resist the urge to call her. All of this--the decision to stay platonic and to note dote on her--went against everything I felt morally. Sure, I was a promiscuous man. Yes, I enjoyed the luxury of women who threw themselves at my feet. But I had standards. I had a moral code I live by. And I told myself that if any one of these women ever got pregnant because of my escapades, I would be there for them. For our child. Just like my father had been for me. I had the financial means to be there and I had the ability to hire the best doctors in the world to take care of whoever I had gotten pregnant.

I knew the risks going into this kind of lifestyle. I just never expected to get caught up in a woman who refused what I had to offer.

My parents never married. I was the result of a one-night stand gone wrong. By my father took care of my mother and they always respected one another. My time was split between their households and there wasn’t a time where they were together that fighting ever ensued. The acted like adults, they co-parented me and raised me right, and that was why I knew it could be done. Delilah and I could do this, even if she still wanted things to be platonic between us.

We could still be out in the open without having a romantic relationship.