Triplets Make Five

“Mhm. And your mother has Charlotte,” he said.

I looked over at my mother in a corner, a miniature bottle tipped up to my child’s lips. My head was on a swivel, searching for the other child.

Where the hell was my other daughter?

“Don’t worry,” Preston said as he laid Aiden into my arms. “Abigail is just fine.”

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“Abigail?” I asked.

“Once you see her, I promise it’ll fit,” he said with a grin.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she here with us?” I asked.

Aiden nuzzled into my breast, searching for the substance leaking from my nipple as his lips wrapped around my skin. I gasped, feeling my other breast beginning to leak as my mother looked up. She smiled at me as she walked Charlotte over to my arm, positioning her on my other breast as I fed my children.

There was a light in Preston’s eyes I’d never seen before as he gazed upon the sight.

“Abigail’s in the NICU. She had a bit of a problem coming out, so they’re running a few tests. But she’s healthy and she’s strong. Just like her mother,” Preston said.

“Then why is she in the NICU?” I asked.

“They’re just monitoring her oxygen levels. They have to do it for a certain amount of time for children that don’t cry immediately after being born.”

“She…she didn’t cry?” I asked.

“Delilah, I promise you. She’s fine.”

Preston sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed my hair away. I looked up into the eyes of the most beautiful man I had ever seen, a smile gracing his cheeks. He placed a careful kiss onto my forehead. Hesitant, but warm. I hummed at his touch, not caring who heard or saw as I smiled up at him.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well,” he said.

Then, I heard a camera click in the distance.

“Sorry,” my mom said. “The moment was just too precious.”

“That’s okay,” I said with a smile. “Take as many as you want.”

My mother and father continued to take pictures as I lost myself in Preston’s eyes. The swell of his lips and the strength of his body called to me as I held our children in my arms. I leaned into him, his arm curling around me as his fingers ran through my hair. I gazed up at him with watery eyes, my arms growing tired as I held our children up.

“Here. Let me help,” he said.

Preston worked his way behind me, being careful not to jostle my body too much. He slid himself against my back, supporting the whole of my frame as his arms slid underneath mine. He held my arms up as I held our children, the both of us supporting them as they ate. I felt a tear run down my cheek as I looked at what we had done, feeling Preston’s nose nuzzle against the crook of my neck.

“I love you.”

I felt him whisper it into my skin like a prayer as I whipped my gaze over to him.

“What?” I asked.

“I love you, Delilah Kent.”

I was rendered speechless as he gently pressed his lips to mine.

“I love you, too, Preston Walker. So, so much.”

I was glad my parents were taking pictures of all this. Of these intimate moments and these passionate encounters. I was glad the camera shutters were going off and filling the room with noise. It meant this moment would be captured. Forever sealed into one iconic photograph the moment my life came together. It was the moment our accident morphed into a family, and as I laid there against Preston with his body supporting mine I knew we were going to be okay.