NICHOLAS'S POV

The sudden pounding on my front door caught me off guard as I sat there, reviewing the deposition for the case I was working on with my father for what must've been the two hundredth time. Shocked out of the reverie I'd been building, I get to my feet, leaving the sanctity of my living room and making my way down the hallway, towards the front door. I peered through the spyhole, shocked at who I saw on the front porch, and immediately unlocked the door and stared out into the May evening, Murphy staring back at me.

"Murphy?" I asked, shocked at her expression and body language. I took in her crossed arms and her exhausted expression, and her clothes appeared to be slightly wrinkled. I also noticed that her beautiful copper hair was placed in a messy bun on top of her head, and as she stood there, I noticed that she was shaking. "Are you all right? Come in, come in," I said, moving aside and feeling immediately relieved when she stepped inside. "It's six days from now that you were supposed to be back—what happened?"

"Hell in a handbasket," Murphy replied, trudging over the stoop and walking into the hallway, almost deliberately not turning to face me as she stepped into my living room. Going inside, she perched on the edge of my couch, and I moved to follow her, sitting beside her in the arm chair I'd previously been occupying, not wanting to invade her personal space bubble.

"It couldn't have been that bad," I say, doing my best to make a joke, but once Murphy raised her beautiful brown eyes to mine, I knew that there was no room in her mind for me to be making jokes right now. I immediately felt my smile wiping off my face at the notion of the pain in my girlfriend's expression, and I found myself wanting to throttle whoever was responsible for making her feel this way. "What happened?" I asked, my voice more subdued now, wanting to get to the bottom of the situation.

Murphy sighed, two stray strands of copper hair seeming to escape her bun at the exact same moment from either side, which she immediately moved to tuck behind her ears. "I ran into someone while I was out jogging on our third day there..."

"You told me you used to jog all the time," I said, smiling at the notion of Murphy dashing down the streets of Beverly Hills, allowing herself a slice of freedom from all of the responsibilities that life had thrown at her. "Guess you really did have some spare time on your hands while you and Mom were waiting for Raquel..."

Murphy nodded. "Mmm-hmm," she said; she was going numb, as she so often did—shutting off when she knew that there was pain to be dealt with, but she'd gone through so much in her early life, she didn't want to take it anymore. "I ran into Jasmine," she whispered.

You could've heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. "Jasmine?" I asked at last.

Murphy sighed, her shoulders concaving then as she seemed to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders for the hours leading up to this apparent confrontation. "Yeah, Jasmine. Ran into her at a coffee bar type place..."

"Was she alone?" I asked, knowing that Jasmine seemed the type to be attracted to someone who could provide for her—a professional type, or an athlete would've looked good on her arm, due to her high-profile status as a model.

Murphy shook her head. "No. Her son, Jared, was with her," she replied, turning to look at me to catch my reaction. "Jared looked to be about two—or, almost, considering he was born in October, which leads me to believe that there's only one candidate for his father, due to his looks and coloring," she says.

It was like a slap in the face as I got to my feet, covering my mouth with one hand and dragging my hand through my hair with the other. I remembered Jasmine coldly telling me that she was moving to LA, and that she had lied about being pregnant. Her pregnancy had kept me from being with Murphy, and when I thought it was a lie, it had driven us into each other's arms. Of course, things were complicated, as, on the outside of things, Murphy was dating Josh Fairfax—an enemy of mine—but I wanted her, god, how I'd wanted her...

"It looks like you have a son, Nicholas," Murphy said quietly.

I turned and looked at her then, feeling the fear emit from every fiber of my being, wondering if this was the moment that I would lose her. "I swear I didn't know, Murphy," I said as Murphy continued to stare at the expensive rug on my living room floor.

She gave a slight nod then. "How can I believe that?"

"Don't you trust me, Murphy?" I asked.

Murphy raised her eyes to mine then, and it was like a knife to the heart when I saw how cool and unfeeling she had made them. "No," she replied, and shook her head at me. "No, Nicholas, I don't trust you. I can't trust you."

I drew back then, even further than I was from her, shocked at hearing those words. "What the hell do you mean, you can't trust me?!" I demanded.

"Because I fucking know everything!" she screamed then, a flare of passion entering her veins then as she jumped to her feet. "I know that you're a liar! You may have never cheated on me, Nicholas, but you're a fucking liar, and I'm tired of your bullshit!"

I stared at her then, searching her face for a clue and finding none. "What are you talking about?" I asked her, trying to remain calm.

"Halloween," she replied, her word a gut-punch.

I shook my head at her, only partially understanding why I continued to deny it, when she clearly knew everything. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Murphy scoffed. "No. No, of course you wouldn't," she said, her voice bitter. "I followed you the night of the ball, on your mother's orders, where your father told you that Pamela Farris hired some thug to plant the bombs and start the fire to try and kill me," she went on, and I knowingly looked away from her in my shame. "And then—oh, I thought this was the best part—not only did you get him to go along with it, but you told him that, because you were in love with me, which was the second time you said it, mind you," she went on, and my eyes flashed back to meet hers, "he actually agreed that he would keep it from me."

"How the hell do you know it was the second time I told you I loved you?!" I demanded, feeling amazed that I'd never truly said it to her face, at least, when she could hear it and I could've seen her direct reaction.

"Because I know you came to the hospital after the fire," she replied, crossing her arms again, which was likely a barrier in case I got closer to her. "It makes sense—your parents were hurt in the fire—but I was your girlfriend, your fucking girlfriend, and so you came to see me because you felt guilty that I was put into that situation. And then you told me you loved me—you told me you fucking loved me—in the most cop out moment of the century!"

I shook my head at her. "There are things at play here that you don't understand, Murphy," I said to her then, doing my best to keep my calm with her—I didn't want to fly off the handle and hurt her more than I already had. "Didn't you ever consider that I thought it was best that you didn't know, because I wanted to—"

"Don't you dare say you wanted to protect me, you jackass!" she yelled. "I protected myself for over twenty years, and I think I did pretty well. I was surviving then, but I want to live now. I thought I was finally living when we made it official a year ago, but, apparently, I was just lying to myself, because only three months out of the gate, you pretended you didn't say something, and four months in, you lied to me."

I raised my eyes to hers then. "You were lying to Josh when you were with him," I replied, knowing full well how low I was sinking, but I didn't care.

Murphy narrowed her eyes at me. "What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" she demanded, her voice a low hiss, similar to a serpent.

"How do I know you haven't been lying to me?" I asked her. "Your father is the very definition of a hypocrite, Murphy, so who's to say you're not exactly like him?"

Murphy's eyes lit up on fire then as she advanced towards me without hesitation and slapped me full across the face. "Never compare me to him!" she roared. "I may be a liar, too, but I am nothing like Frank Gallagher!"

I cupped my cheek then, staring down at her and all the pain I'd caused and shook my head. "I need to know what you're hiding from me," I said quietly.

"Fine," she replied. "Josh threatened me at the hospital," she said, shrugging her shoulders then, as if it meant nothing, when, in fact, it meant everything. "And he came by the house a few weeks back and assaulted me..."

"He did what?!" I demanded.

She shrugged again. "Doesn't fucking matter—I took care of him," she said. "Clobbered him over the head with a baseball bat and then Ian and Lip took him back to his apartment. I could have killed him, but I didn't. Not my style," she replied, backing away from me. "Between the two of us, you're the killer, Nicholas."

I shook my head. "I don't understand."

"You killed us," she said, her voice cracking as her emotions threatened to get the better of her as she stepped away from me. "We're done."

Immediately, I went after her, grabbing ahold of her arm before she could even get to my hallway and held her back. "Don't," I said, holding onto her.

Murphy turned back to face me then, holding back her emotions by attempting to harden her face, but they somehow managed to escape through. "Take your hand off me and let me go!" she said, although her tone was begging me.

"You love me," I said, the words foolishly falling from my lips. "You love me, Murphy. I can see it in your eyes—you love me."

She yanked at my grip on her. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I don't love you, Nicholas, now let me go!"

"That's why this is so difficult for you—what else are you hiding, Murphy? What is it?" I asked, turning into the begging party now. "Admit it—you love me, and you're hiding something. What happened in California?"

Murphy let out a gasp then as she turned away from me, attempting to keep her sobs at bay as she lowered her eyes to her stomach—there was nothing in it, there was something in it. "I'm not hiding anything—now let me go!" she yelled then, breaking out of my hold on her then as she dashed for the door, throwing it open and running down the path towards where she had parked her car.

"Murphy!" I cried out, running after her.

Her name tore from my throat as I ran through my door and outside into the sunset-filled evening, seeing her about to step off the sidewalk and into the street. I went after her then, just about to step off the sidewalk myself when I saw it—a Lincoln car tearing around the corner then at top speed, and Murphy stood there, like a deer in the headlights as the car came towards her, and my own life flashed before my eyes.

"Murphy!" I screamed again, knowing what I had to do, but not really knowing all at once. I stood there for half a moment, before I pushed myself off the side of the street. Almost without thinking, I dove into the center of the street then and shoved Murphy out of the way, just as the car hit me fully.

"Nicholas!" Murphy screamed as I hit my head on the street. "What the fuck did you do?!" she demanded then, a hint of familiarity in her voice as she presumably addressed me, or it could've been the driver.

The second to last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was the sound of not one but two cars screeching away from the scene—the first one immediate, the second one a few minutes behind. I heard the sirens then, and felt my eyes roll back into my head then, catching a glimpse of the pink ball in the sky that was the sun. I found I was chuckling then as that was the last thing I saw as I tried to breathe and hold on.

"I love you...Murphy..." I whispered, and then it was black.

. . .

"Murphy!" I screamed, my eyes shooting open then as I took note of all the wires in me, and the unexpected pain in my head that went with it. I looked around then, seeing that I was hooked up to too many machines to count. I found the call box and pressed it, want to talk to a human and, quite soon, I was permitted that request.

The door opened then and a doctor stepped inside—older than I was, yet looking excellent for her age, and I caught her name as Dr. Bonner—and recognition flowed through me. "Nicholas Blomqvist?" she asked, looking up. "Hey, you're Gwen's lawyer," she said with a smile. "Or, one of them, anyway."

"How is she?" I asked, not really wanting to talk about myself.

"Wonderful. She and Geoff have worked everything out."

"And Drew?" I asked, wanting to know her news.

"Well, it's the early days yet, but he's going to have a sibling by the end of the year," Grace said with a smile. "Gwen is having the baby this time around."

"That's great," I said, trying to move in the bed, but the I.V. was pinning me down pretty hard and making it damn near impossible.

"But we're here for you, Nicholas—can I call you Nicholas?"

I managed to smile. "Wish you would."

She smiled. "Call me Grace," she replied, pulling a chair up to my bed. "Your father was here to sit with you—he's gone to call your mother. He mentioned she was in California?"

I nodded. "Yeah. My sister passed away a year ago and her good-for-nothing boss decided to hold onto her valuables in an attempt to sell them. When she realized they weren't worth as much as she thought, she thought it would be great to release them to her."

"Your mother apparently had her important meeting—I know that much—and is on a direct flight back here," she put in. "Is there anyone else you want us to call?"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "My girlfriend and I got into a bad fight, but she should probably be notified..."

"Could she have been behind this?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No. The car was trying to kill her, not me."

. . .

MURPHY'S POV

"So, you're telling me that some son of a bitch tried to mow you down, and you didn't think to tell me this earlier?!" Ian demanded.

We were in the airport—Iana and I—waiting to come home to Chicago. It had been a blissful three months, but I knew it was time to get back. I'd called her preschool to remind me of the date, and thankfully, we still had the weekend to get over our jet-lag. I turned and looked at Iana, who was very pretty in her pink little sundress; like me, she didn't tan, so I'd had to work double time to keep the both of us slathered in sunscreen.

"I'm sorry, Ian," I said, remembering that it was my turn to speak. "I know all of this is a lot, but it's been a hell of a summer..."

"Yeah, especially since I now fully understand what's going on," he replied.

I blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It means Nicholas has been calling nonstop, or dropping by the house unannounced," he replied with a groan. "Look, Murph, I understand why you wanted to get away from him—"

"I broke up with him," I said quietly into the phone.

"Wait. You did what?!"

"I told him we were done on my last night in town," I replied. "I just couldn't handle it anymore, Ian—what we had was toxic, and I-A-N-A doesn't need that."

Iana immediately snapped to attention. "Mama?"

"Hold on, Ian," I said, covering the mouth piece of my phone. "Mama is talking to Uncle Ian right now, sweetheart."

"Can I say hi?" she asked.

I smiled. "Not right now, darling," I replied, dipping into her bag and pulling out a book. "Why don't you read while I wrap this up? We'll be getting on the plane soon..."

Iana nodded, taking the book. "Okay, Mama," she said, opening it.

"Sorry about that," I replied, taking my hand off the mouth piece.

"How is she?" Ian asked.

I gave a nod, allowing myself to sigh into the phone—I couldn't bring myself to lie to Ian; not for long, anyway. "Asking a lot of questions, but I know she's happy that we're going home to see everyone," I said, and Iana turned to me and smiled for a moment before looking back at her new book. "I guess it can be expected—she has the intelligence of someone far beyond her years and an excellent memory. She understands that we're not a family of two—she's used to more people around..."

"I get that," Ian replied. "But you and Nicholas?"

I sighed, shoulders slacking. "Like I said," I replied. "I told him we were done." I stopped talking then, the sound of an announcement being made making my ears prick up. "They're about to start our boarding," I said.

Ian let out a sigh. "Okay."

"Okay," I said back to him.

"It's a nonstop flight, right?"

I scoffed into the phone. "Please. I wouldn't put Iana through a connecting flight until she's a few years older."

"Good on you," he said.

"So, I'll see you in about three hours, okay? Gotta factor in me driving home after somehow managing to escape the other airport..."

Ian laughed on the other side. "See you then," he replied.

. . .

I somehow managed to get through the Chicago airport quickly, leading Iana to baggage claim and keeping a good grip upon her hand. After we each got our rollers, were trooped through the airport, me keeping a good grip on her and my luggage. When we got to the correct lot, I fished the identifying piece of paper from my pocket, which would ultimately lead us to my car. When we arrived, I unlocked my doors and put our luggage into the trunk, before shutting it and guiding Iana to her car seat. I'd paid a pretty penny for my car to be able to stay there for so long, but it had been worth it, because Iana had met all her favorite Disney characters.

"Home, Mama?" Iana asked as I buckled her in.

I smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. "Yes, sweetheart," I replied. I shut her door and got into the driver's side door, pulling out of the parking lot and finding the most direct route to the exit. When we made it out, I got onto the freeway, feeling relieved that it was only four-thirty, and crossed my fingers that we wouldn't encounter an abundance of Friday after-work traffic.

We didn't hit much, and soon we were in the old neighborhood again, driving down the street past The Alibi Room. I smiled at the memories that were conjured from my brief working stint there, and knew I should stop in there to see Kevin at some point, or at least tell Ian I wouldn't mind if he came by the house. Once we cleared the main streets and got onto the side ones, we reached our block, and I could sense Iana's excitement from the back seat. I pulled into my customary parking space, getting out of the car and letting her out immediately, and she followed me to the trunk and helped with her own suitcase.

"Mama, we're home!" she crowed.

I smiled down at her, running my fingers through her raven hair. "Yes, sweetheart. You and I are home at last." I watched as Iana scampered through the yard and up to the front door, which soon opened and Ian stood there.

"Uncle Ian!" Iana shouted.

"Hey!" Ian said, bending down and scooping her up, giving me a look of sympathy as he pulled me in for a hug. "Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "No. Not now," I replied.

Ian nodded, taking my roller from me and placing it beside Iana's on the stairs. "Well, everyone's waiting, and I've told them no questions."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm not some celebrity, and they're not a bunch of reporters," I said, and shook my head at the thought of it.

Ian smirked. "Tell them that," he replied, ushering us into the living room.

. . .

I dropped off Iana at preschool the following day, knowing that she was two months premature of the cutoff age, but they seemed delighted to have her. On her second birthday, Rebecca had written me a glowing recommendation, and so Iana was accepted on sight alone. I gave her a kiss and told her I would be back for her later that afternoon, and Iana gave me a hug and was very accepting of the arrangement.

As I left the preschool that day, I hesitated for a moment, fully taking in that today was my first day back at the firm, and knowing that, despite Allie's kind text messages to the vague ones I'd sent to her, I knew something was bound to happen. Despite all that had happened in the span of nearly thirteen weeks, that Nicholas's and my last conversation still hit home. I'd been raw for weeks afterward—and still was slightly so—and saw going to Florida with Iana as a massive distraction, and one that I'd needed. I didn't know if there would be a tearful reunion or a rage-filled one; all I did know was that there'd been lying and pain brought forth from both sides, and running away was something I'd sworn never to do again, and I had.

I got into my car then and just sat there for a few moment—I had nearly half an hour before I was needed anyway, and I'd taken that time just in case Iana had needed a long goodbye. I shook my head then, smiling at myself, knowing that, most of all, I had to have faith in my daughter's sense of independence. Despite everything, she had taken it into her stride—not having a direct link to her biological father, just uprooting when I asked her to, and her constant cooperation with the goings-on—and had been amazing throughout. With my confidence jarred, I knew I could have some in her, I figured, as I started up my car and drove towards the firm.

I got into the parking garage and went to my usual space, relieved that nobody had taken it over in my absence. I got out of my car, my bulky bag coming with me, as I held it before me like a shield as I locked up my car and walked towards the elevator. Pressing the correct button, I rode it upstairs, almost anticipating someone waiting for me on the other side, and was almost scared when I saw that only the empty lobby was waiting for me. Pushing the thought from my mind, I made my way into the assistants area, smiling and waving to Rachel, who gave me a polite smile back and handed over my messages, which was very thick, due to my extended absence from the firm, and I gave a slight grin as I walked towards my office.

Letting myself inside, I wished that all thoughts of anxiety would leave me, but I knew such things were impossible to ask or wish for. Shutting the door as I flicked on my light, I hurried over to my desk and sat down, getting as close to it as I could, scattering the contents of my bag in front of me, wanting to just get started on some menial paperwork so that I would at least have something to do. I hadn't been given my latest case yet, and I didn't anticipate getting one, due to my recent behavior. In fact, I was almost expecting Allie or Hugo to barge into my office and demand to know what the hell I was doing there.

I put my head into my hands, massaging my temples; I knew I was exhausted, but the jet-lag couldn't have been a problem, due to the mere hour of a time difference. The summer had been amazing, though, if only for Iana's happiness alone. We'd spent a lot of the time walking, as she was too small to ride a lot of the rides alone, and I couldn't—obviously, I couldn't. Shaking my head at my recklessness, I was relieved when Fiona had come to my defense on the day of my homecoming, telling Debbie not to ask an abundance of questions. Lip had been considerate of that was well, rallying to my side and telling Debbie to leave me alone.

"Glad to be home?" Ian had asked, once Iana and Liam had been sent to bed, and the rest of our family had cleared out.

I sighed. "Yeah. You could say that."

Ian smiled. "You worried?"

"Worried about facing the inevitable music?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders. "Hey, like I always say, this is a bed of my own making..."

"You didn't get into this on your own, Murph."

I leaned back on the couch, looking up and meeting his eyes. "I ran again," I said softly. "After I swore I wouldn't again... I ran, instead of facing my problems."

"You think you're scared?" he wanted to know.

I shrugged. "I don't know—probably. I just don't want to get close to anyone. The physical part of it, I can handle. It's on the emotional level that I can't handle."

"It's probably because of Tina and Dr. Normal," Ian put in, and I nodded. "They didn't show you the love you needed—just the opposite."

I scoffed. "Yeah. Tina pushed me away as soon as Drake was born, and Dr. Normal beat all conceivable feeling of loving emotion out of me..."

"That's not true," Ian said quietly. "I mean, you love Iana, you love me, you love Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam..."

I nodded. "Of course I love you—all of you."

"There's a disconnect with romantic love, then," he said quietly. "I think I have an idea of what you're afraid of..."

I sighed. "You would know just as well as anyone..."

"I think it's because the two times in your life you chose to love—first with Jessica and then with Lip—that circumstances happened, and they were taken away from you."

I sat up then, my eyes wide that somebody had finally put to words what I'd been feeling. "Oh, my god... How did you know?"

Ian smiled. "Simple guesswork—plus, I'm your twin," he replied, stating the obvious. "Jessica was physically ripped from you, and Lip was lawfully taken from you. So, you found something with Nicholas, but you couldn't address it, and, because of his troubled past, you thought that Josh was a better bet, and when he hurt you, you turned to the one person you wanted all along, Murphy—it's always been Nicholas. Hasn't it?"

I sighed. "I'm scared," I whispered.

"Just talk to him," he replied. "From what you've told me, all the cards are out now, and you've both successfully managed to hurt each other. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen. Regardless, he is going to want to be in your life, Murphy..."

The knock on the door jarred me then, and I lifted my head from my hands and straightened out the already-straightened papers on the top of my desk. "Come in," I said.

The door opened and Nicholas stood in the doorway for a moment, and there was no mistaking the pain in his eyes as my own heart hammered in my chest, just wanting to comfort him as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He hesitated for a moment, almost as if he wanted to say something emotional, but decided it was better to state an obvious fact. "So, you're finally back," he said.

I nodded. "I'm back."

Nicholas sighed then, appearing vulnerable before me. "Look, Murphy, I know that you said that we were done before you left. I understand that I hurt you, but that really hurt me, too. And the things you kept from me..."

"Look," I said, fighting the urge to get up from my desk and run to him. "We hurt each other, Nicholas, but we're both imperfect. Can't you see that?"

He nodded. "Clearly."

I sighed. "I know that we have to find a way to move past this somehow. If not as a couple, then as friends..."

"We were nearly always friends, Murphy," he replied, lowering his eyes. "But that's not what I want from you."

"I understand," I replied. "If you want me to leave the firm and find a job as a lawyer somewhere else, then I'll just...go."

"Murphy, no," he said, and our eyes locked together again. "I want to be with you. I know it's crazy, but we really had something between us. And despite everything—I'm sorry. I want to be with you again..."

I nodded, lowering my eyes. "Yeah," I said, the tears blinding my vision. "Yeah, I'm sorry. And I still want to be with you, too."

"Then what are we going to do?" he asked.

I sighed, looking back up at him. "I think we should start out with a clean slate—we've apologized for the past and it's done. Nothing to be done about it now."

Nicholas nodded. "Done."

"And next, if there are any more secrets between us, we need to get them out into the open, since we really want this to work."

"I went to see Jasmine over the summer," he replied.

I bit my lip. "Is Jared your son?"

He shook his head. "No, he isn't. Jasmine got engaged behind my back to a quarterback and he was transferred from here to LA, which is why she wanted to move so badly. Jared is this guy's child—I have the DNA test to prove it."

"I'll see it later," I replied. "Is that everything?"

Nicholas nodded. "On my end, yes."

I sighed. "Well, all right then," I said, allowing myself to get to my feet, my eyes not leaving Nicholas's face for a moment, which took on one of shock. "You weren't the only one with one last secret," I said quietly.

"You're...pregnant?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes," I said, placing my hand onto my stomach. "I'm twenty-three weeks. And don't you dare demand to know if it's yours, Nicholas, because of course it is."

Nicholas did the math in his mind for a moment. "After court," he said.

I sighed. "Yes."

"That day that Geoff punched me, and I had the black eye," he said quietly. "We went to my condo and you comforted me... I didn't use a condom."

"And I'd gone off the pill because of Iana," I said quietly. "They gave me mood swings, you remember that."

He nodded. "I remember."

I sighed. "I'm sorry I kept this from you, Nicholas, but this isn't something you tell someone over the phone after a fight..."

"Or when they're in the hospital."

I put my face in my hands then, never thinking once of Nicholas all bandaged up in a hospital bed as I found my shoulders shaking. "Right," I whispered.

"Murphy?" he asked, coming towards me then and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Are you crying?"

"Of course I'm crying!" I replied. "You mean a lot to me..."

Nicholas smiled. "And you mean a lot to me," he replied. "I love you."

I felt myself breathing shallowly then, shocked at the declaration that had finally come. "I love you, too," I replied.

Nicholas put his arms around me then. "And I'm happy," he replied. "Like I said, Iana's what changed things for me. I'm happy that we're having a child..."

"Children," I said softly.

Nicholas immediately pulled back from me then. "What?"

"I had an ultrasound on Saturday—the technician squeezed me in," I replied. "So, I already know what we're having..."

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "I would've wanted to be there..."

"I know—I'm sorry," I replied, lowering my eyes.

Nicholas reached down and pulled my chin up. "What are we having?"

"Twins," I replied. "Boys."

Nicholas grinned. "Boys? I'm going to have sons?"

"We're going to have..." I whispered, and then the pair of them decided to do backflips from inside me then, and I slowly guided his hands to my stomach. "We're going to have boys," I said, looking at him then.

Nicholas leaned in then and kissed me, and my arms wound around his neck then, my heart hammering throughout my body all over again. "I love you," he whispered to me again, and I savored each and every word.

"I love you, too," I whispered back.