Page 51 of Seizing Control: Part Two

I shouldn’t be thinking about my husband today.

Not when Lazarus has risked everything to be for me.

I was willing to face this alone.

Thanks to Nadia, I didn’t have to.

Why isn’t that enough for me?

What do I continue to dream of an impossible future?

“Are we learning the sexes today?”

Lazarus looks at me with inquisitive eyes.

“As godmother, I feel qualified to make this decision, “Nadia interjects. “With two bundles of joy to get ready for, we are most definitely finding out the gender today.”

My first love dips his head to bring his mouth level with my ear. “You on board with this?”

“Are you?” I murmur.

“Whatever you want is good with me. You lead, sweet thing—I’ll follow you anywhere.”

There’s a sick yearning in my heart as I apply his easy acquiescence to a scenario that he’ll never agree to. Levelling a knowing look in my direction, Nadia is part sympathetic and part judgemental. For all her foibles and the drama between my best friend and my twin brother, her joke about sharing Sander and Cub has never rung true to me.

My best friend is a one-man kind of woman.

Like I once believed myself to be.

“We want to know.”

Sophie nods.

Her face turns red again when she accidentally locks eyes with my first love.

I squeeze his hand, holding my breath as I pray that history isn’t going to repeat itself.

“We have a boy.” The wand is run over my skin, digging in as Sophie scans our second baby. “And a girl.”

Heart sinking, I do my best to hide my inner turmoil.

Another generation of Shamrocks is on its way.

One girl.

Another Cherub.

“You happy, metukà shelì?” Lazarus enquires as my belly is wiped clean.

He helps me tug my top down and then pulls me into a sitting position.

“I’m happy,” I tell him once I’m upright. With a lump in my throat, I offer him the same directness he’s given me since his resurrection. “And scared to death.”

“I hear ya, sweet thing.”

When Sophie ducks out to print the ultrasound images we’ve asked for, Nadia seizes me in a tight bear hug. “I’m godmother times three. Three.”

“Crazy, hey.”

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