Then, my stomach gives a strange little flutter.Low.Subtle.
My whole body goes still.Because something inside me just answered.
My hand flies to my belly, right next to Monty’s.“Did you feel that?”
Monty’s gaze drops instantly.Every part of him focuses there, like the world outside our couch has stopped existing.
Callaway notices my face and goes alert in a different way—protective, ready.“What?What is it?”
I stare down at my stomach like my body has just betrayed me into tenderness and I’m not sure whether to laugh, cry, or text my therapist.
“I think—” My voice comes out tiny.“I think that was her.”
Monty’s hand presses flatter, not hard, just present.Like he’s trying to be close enough for her to know him.
“Again,” he says, like he’s negotiating with the universe.
Callaway shifts closer, eyes wide, wonder all over his face.“Baby?That was—was that you?”
I let out a watery laugh.“Maybe she’s saying ‘I love you’ too.”
Monty’s thumb strokes once over my skin, and his voice drops into something almost broken with reverence.“Hi,” he says to my belly.“Hi, sweetheart.We love you so much.”
Something in me cracks clean open.
Callaway bends down—careful, like I’m fragile even though I’m not—and kisses my stomach, right where our hands overlap.It’s the gentlest thing in the world, and still it hits like a punch.
“I love you,” he whispers there.
Monty leans in and kisses my knuckles where they rest against my skin, like he can’t kiss her yet so he kisses the part of me that’s holding her.
Then his mouth finds mine again—brief, fierce, tender all at once.
“Always,” he says against my lips.
Callaway’s hand slides up to cup the side of my face, his forehead brushing mine.“Always,” he repeats, like he’s making the word real by saying it.
And I’m still frozen, hand on my belly, waiting like an idiot for another flutter—like I can summon it with pure devotion and panic.
Monty’s eyes lift to mine, and there’s something helplessly soft there that makes my lungs forget how to work for a second.
“Yeah,” he says, voice quiet.Certain.“That was her.”
Callaway kisses my mouth again—slow, worshipful.“We’re going to love you both,” he murmurs, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.“Every day.No breaks.”
I let out a laugh that turns into a sob because I’m ridiculous and happy and scared and full of love I didn’t think I deserved.
And I believe this is us expecting not only a baby to love but to be like this, always.Not alone trying to choose who I can love, but in love with two men who accept me and adore each other too.
ChapterFifty-Six
Alberto
Everything is sweetness and love until you realize that the woman you love—who is in your lap—is wearing no underwear or a bra.
My hand stays on her stomach, palm curved gently over the place where our daughter moved for the first time.I feel her heartbeat under my skin.Not just one—I feel three.
She looks at me with wet lashes and a half-smile like she’s embarrassed by her own softness.
