“You heard me. You’re. Not. Having. This. Baby.”
My chest rose, my breathing increasing with my anger at the implication of his words.
“We’re getting rid of it.”
My mouth opened to tell him to go fuck himself but he quickly pivoted, turning his back on me and stomping off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I jumped at the sound, my body shaking with fury. If he hadn’t of stormed off, I might have tried to wrap my hands around his throat to strangle him for what he’d just said to me.
I growled, frustrated with that stubborn ass man. Against my better judgement, I started toward the bathroom door to pound on it and make him come out, but just then the baby monitor on Aaron’s nightstand sounded, wailing coming through the speaker. One of the babies was up.
“You probably woke him with your door slamming,” I yelled through the bathroom door before turning and moving to my dresser, pulling out a pair of panties and a long cotton nightgown, putting them both on before going to check on the baby.
As soon as I opened the door, I caught sight of Andreas kneeling up in his crib, crying. I moved swiftly to pick him up, hoping he wouldn’t wake Thiers, who was on the other side of the room. I glanced over my shoulder and caught Thiers sleeping peacefully in his crib. While these two were identical twins, their personalities were very different. Thiers could sleep through anything, while Andreas needed the perfect conditions to get a good night’s sleep. I was half convinced the little argument between Aaron and I had shifted the conditions in the house just enough to wake him and cause his grumpiness.
“What’s the matter? Huh?” I cooed, cradling Andreas to my chest. As soon as I did his wails diminished to mini hiccups. “You’re such a faker,” I joked, bouncing him a little as I moved to the corner of his massive room where the light blue and wooden rocking chair sat. The room was lit by a soft light that the boys slept with every night. It allowed enough lighting for me to see my way around but wasn’t disruptive to their sleep.
“Your brother’s over there sleeping like a baby and you’re making all of this noise.”
Pressing a kiss to Andreas’ forehead, I stared down into his eyes that were the same color as his father’s. The twins looked even more like Aaron than Kyle did. But Andreas, I was certain had inherited his father’s demeanor. His little face was scrunched into what could be interpreted as a scowl, even though he snuggled deeper into my chest.
“Okay,” I sighed, grateful that the nightgown I’d chosen actually had buttons that secured it in the front. Usually, I left the buttons closed, opting to slip it on and off over my head. But Andreas was hungry as evident by the way his hand began fiddling with my shirt, his face searching for my nipple.
“You know you’re going to have stop this pretty soon,” I warned as if he could understand what I was saying. If he did, he obviously couldn’t care less because as soon as I released my breast he took to it without a care in the world.
I ran my hand over his silky soft, tight curls, as he stared up into my gaze while he fed.
“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?” I laughed, then quieted down remembering a sleeping Thiers. “What am I saying? You’re a Townsend. Of course you’re going to be a handful,” I whispered.
Just then I lifted my gaze to the opened door, noticing a shadow. My eyes collided with Aaron’s as he stared at us from his position, arms folded over his chest. It was the same thing he always did when I was up with one of the children at night, even when I’d insisted he sleep because he had a long work day or needed to be up early in the morning. He always came to help or just watch over, especially when it came to handling Andreas.
While I couldn’t fathom a better father for our children, even Aaron had trouble getting Andreas to settle down some nights. Most of the time, he refused to be held by his grandparents, and especially not strangers. At times, it felt like Andreas was attached to my hip because he only wanted to be held by me. Whereas Thiers had weaned himself at eight months, I’d had to work to get Andreas to reduce his feedings to nighttime only.
I looked back down at Andreas who was fighting to keep his eyes open. He’d fall asleep soon, but I knew better than to pull him from feeding just yet. He’d scream the whole house down.
I returned my gaze to Aaron who’d remained silent. Wordlessly, he stepped back from the doorframe and strode down the hall, his anger still apparent in the rigidity of his movements.
“You get your stubbornness from your daddy,” I told Andreas before sighing.
Rocking us in the chair for a few minutes, encouraging Andreas back to sleep, I heard Aaron as he moved farther down the hallway. I knew he was headed down to the basement level where his home office sat. I shook my head, still pissed at his earlier comments. Aaron was the one who’d wanted more children in the first place. Immediately after the twins were born he’d informed me that he wanted at least two more. He was adamant. But that was before everything changed.
The first few hours after Andreas and Thiers’ birth were okay, but as I laid in the hospital room, awaiting the nurses to bring me the babies for their next feeding, the pain in my body sharply rose. At first, the nurses told me to just relax, that it was normal to experience some cramping as my uterus contracted to shrink back to its original size. But this pain wasn’t normal. It grew increasingly worse. My recollection of exactly what happened is hazy due to the pain and fear. I knew something wasn’t right. It was confirmed when a nurse finally rolled me over onto my side to find a pool of blood.
It was at that moment, Aaron returned to the hospital room after having made a trip down to the nursery, and tend to Kyle and Kennedy who’d been taken home with his parents. I remember him yelling at the hospital staff, likely threatening their lives. Soon a doctor rushed in, giving me a shot of something, and not too long after the pain subsided along with the bleeding. But I wasn’t out of the woods. I had to be given a blood transfusion due to the amount of blood I lost.
I shook my head, releasing that horrific memory. I almost didn’t make it to see my boys grow up. I understood why my being pregnant frightened Aaron. Once I was home with the twins settled in, he insisted that we weren’t having anymore children. At least not the traditional way. He was open to adoption, just not my getting pregnant. And since I’d just been terrified of dying after giving birth, I agreed, going back on birth control after the first six weeks. Obviously, that hadn’t been fail proof.
I lifted from the rocking chair, cradling a now sleeping Andreas. I checked his diaper to make sure he wasn’t wet before placing him back into the crib, lying him on his stomach and covering him with the embroidered blanket we’d been given as a gift.
I went over to check on a soundly sleeping Thiers, running my hand over his soft curls. While to outsiders the boys were difficult to tell apart, I noticed their slight differences. Thiers’ curls were less tightly coiled than Andreas’ and a little more coarser. Thiers’ eyes, while still hazel, were a little more green in color. Running my hand down his plump cheek, I smiled and moved away from the crib, heading toward the door, closing it lightly behind me.
I wasn’t surprised that our bedroom was empty. Aaron would be down in his office or working out. It was how he dealt with his anger. But I, for one, was too damn tired to go down there to continue our discussion from earlier. We’d just have to deal with it another time.
I laid down on my side of the bed, bringing my left hand to cover my abdomen.
“Your daddy will come around … Eventually.”
I hoped.
Chapter Eleven
