"One of each," I manage to say, my voice cracking. "We're having a son and a daughter."
Emma turns to look at me, tears streaming down her face. "A girl and a boy," she repeats. Her smile is so radiant it nearly takes my breath away.
I lean down and kiss her, tasting the salt of her tears—or maybe they're mine. I can't tell anymore. All I know is that this moment feels perfect in a way I never thought possible.
"They both look very healthy," Dr. Martelle says, continuing her examination. "Good size for 24 weeks with twins. Baby girl is measuring slightly larger, which is common in boy-girl pairs."
I can't stop staring at the screen, at these two tiny humans who are half me and half Emma, in total disbelief that in sixteen more weeks they’ll be here. Maybe even less, since twins don’t normally stay in the full forty weeks.
Dr. Martelle takes a few more measurements, pointing out various features on the ultrasound.
"The girl has your nose, Emma," she says with a smile. "And the boy seems to have your husband's strong jawline."
My heart swells at her words. Husband. We're not married of course, but hearing it feels right. I watch Emma's face as she stares at the screen, completely mesmerized by our children.
After a few more minutes, Dr. Martelle prints several photos for us and helps Emma clean the gel off her stomach.
"Thank you so much," I say, shaking Dr. Martelle's hand as Emma adjusts her dress.
"Yes, thank you," Emma echoes, her voice still thick with emotion. "I’m so glad I gave in and decided to find out."
We gather our things and make our way out of the office, Emma tucking the ultrasound photos away in her purse like precious treasures. The reality of what we just learned hits me with each step—a son and a daughter. The perfect pair.
When we step outside, my driver Thomas is waiting by the curb with the car door open.
"Where to, Mr. Cross?" he asks.
"Take us to Restoration Hardware, please."
Emma looks up at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Restoration Hardware? Do you need to buy some furniture?"
"Yes, actually," I reply, helping her into the back seat.
"I figured we could start by looking at a new mattress," I tell her once we're settled in the car.
"Something that might help with your back pain for these next sixteen weeks."
Emma gives me a puzzled look. "That's sweet, but I think I can manage with the mattress we have."
"We should look at a few other things too," I add, my mouth suddenly dry. My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if she can hear it. This wasn't how I planned to do this, but something about knowing we're having a son and a daughter makes it impossible to wait another moment.
"Grant, what's going on? We don't need furniture right now." She studies my face, her brow furrowed.
I take her hand in mine, running my thumb across her knuckles. "Emma, would you like to move in with me? Officially?"
Her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." I squeeze her hand, finding confidence in the certainty I feel. "I want us to live together. I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. I want us to make a home together before the twins come."
Emma's expression softens, but I can see hesitation in her eyes. "I've been practically living with you for weeks now except for the week we were apart," she says carefully. "But making it official is..."
"Scary?" I offer when she doesn't finish.
She nods. "But also exciting. We hadn’t really talked too much about what we were going to do once the babies are here but living together would obviously make everything easier.”
Relief floods through me as I watch her expression shift from hesitation to excitement. I'm so relieved she's good with the idea. I want to make my place more of a home for her, somewhere she feels comfortable, hence the shopping trip.
"I was thinking we could pick out some things together," I tell her, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. "Maybe turn one of the guest rooms into a proper office for you. And obviously we need to start thinking about the nursery."
