“You really think so?” she murmurs against my lips.
“Yeah, Spitfire. I do.”
Henley lets out the softest sigh of relief before her lips begin moving against mine and she melts into me. My arm snakes around her waist and I pull her back into the couch.
This is the fucking dream right here. How is it possible that I became the luckiest bastard in the whole fucking world?
Henley’s head falls to my shoulder and my fingers draw circles over her skin as she concentrates on filling the little bottle. When one side is done, she holds the bottle up proudly before capping it and placing it down on the coffee table and getting started on the other side.
I can’t believe how easy and natural Henley is finding all of this. She’s able to soothe the twins with the slightest touch, doesn’t bat an eyelash at having to change shitty diapers, she’s strong and confident when holding, bathing, and dressing them. She’s fucking super mom.
Me? I struggle with the basics. Henley’s had to teach me what to do. It was not that long ago that Lily was that small, but I held her for the shortest little while before always handing her back because I was terrified of breaking her, but these are my sons and I want to be as hands on as I can be.
I want to be the best goddamn father this country has ever seen. I want my babies to know that their daddy loves them with every piece of his heart. I want to be their world. But most of all, I want us to be the happiest, joyful family that we can be. I want to give Henley and my boys the absolute best life they deserve.
Something warm splashes down onto my leg and I look down to find Henley has fallen asleep and her milk is spilling everywhere.
I catch the pump and turn it off before placing it down on the coffee table. There’s enough milk in each bottle that I can feed both the boys, so with that sorted, I clip Henley’s maternity bra and pull it back into place before scooping her up off the couch and walking down the hallway.
She snuggles into my arms and it almost kills me that I’m going to have to put her down.
I walk into our bedroom and tuck her into bed. She’s been missing our bed. Every night in the hospital she would tell me just how much she hated that damn bed so I don’t doubt that she’s about to have the best sleep of her life.
Henley curls into her pillow and her arms instantly snake under it. I didn’t realize I was capable of being jealous of a pillow, but here we are.
Wanting to give her some peace and quiet, I sneak out of our room, but keep the door open, knowing she would murder me if she woke to find the door closed and she wasn’t able to hear her babies when they needed her.
Knowing she’ll be out for a while, I clean up the spilled milk and put the two full bottles in the fridge, feeling proud as fuck that my girl is able to provide for our babies like that.
I wash up the breast pump and sterilize it just like the instructions tell me to before putting on a load of washing and making sure every last thing around the house is done. It’s the least I can do for Henley after the hell her body has been through over the past few days.
I’d hate to find her getting up and exhausting herself with stupid shit like laundry and cooking. Seeing as though I can’t shove a tit in the babies’ mouths, I may as well make myself good for something.
Just as all of the chores around the house are done, I go to take a seat on my couch, hoping for even a few minutes of rest, but the boys have a different idea.
Their little cries come streaming up the hallway and I hurry down to them, not wanting to wake Henley.
I scoop up Elijah and get him comfortable before walking over to Ethan, who looks pissed that his brother just woke him up. I manage to scoop him up too and feel like a fucking king having them both in my arms.
I make my way out to the living room and put them down on their special playmat with my heart just moments from exploding right out of my chest.
Ethan sucks on his hands while Elijah farts like a fucking grown ass man and I laugh to myself as I hurry into the kitchen and warm their bottles. These two boys are going to be hard fucking work, but Henley and I have got this.
We can handle it just like we’ve handled everything else that’s ever come our way; like a fucking King and Queen.