"That's called obsession."
He pulls me close—accommodating my stomach—and kisses me softly. "How are you really feeling? About all of this?"
I look around the nursery. Two cribs. Tiny clothes. The reality of what's coming in less than four months.
"Terrified," I admit. "But also excited. And grateful. And overwhelmed. All of it at once."
"That's fair."
"Are you scared?"
"Absolutely. But also ready. As ready as anyone can be for twins, anyway."
Another kick. Then another. The babies are having a full-on dance party now.
"They're really active tonight," I observe.
"They know we're talking about them." He keeps one hand on my stomach, feeling every movement. "Think they can hear us?"
"Probably. The doctor said they can hear sounds now."
"Good." He leans down again. "Listen up, twins. Your mom is the strongest person I know. She's going to figure this out. We both are. Even when you're driving us crazy. Which you will, because you're already experts at that."
My eyes burn and I blink hard.
"Stop making me cry in the nursery."
"Never." He kisses me again, then wipes my cheek. "Come on. Let's go sit down before the waterworks start."
We settle on the couch, Miles pulling my feet into his lap for an impromptu foot rub.
"Your brothers are losing their minds, by the way," he says. "Brennen's designed fifty wine labels. Ryan's bookmarked approximately fifty parenting articles."
"I know. They're panicking more than we are."
"It's kind of entertaining."
"It's extremely entertaining."
"They love you. They love these babies. That's why they're going overboard."
"I know." I close my eyes as Miles works on a particularly sore spot. "But if Brennen tries to name one of them after himself, I'm voting to sell Celtic Knot."
"Noted."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while. The babies kick occasionally, reminding us they're there. The nursery waits upstairs, ready and organized and perfect.
Four months. Maybe less. Two babies depending on us for everything.
One of the babies delivers a particularly strong kick, and I wince.
"They're really going at it tonight," Miles observes.
"Tell them to calm down."
"I tried. They ignored me."
"Your children are already ignoring you."
