Page 74 of Triplet Babies for the Billionaire
He pulls me back into his arms, kissing me gently again. “We’re a team. Always.”
After the whole Courtney ordeal, the atmosphere in the room lightens significantly. The guests are more relaxed again, enjoying themselves as they continue mingling. The food is passed around, and a new round of games begin. Laughter and excitement filling the air.
The rest of the baby shower goes off without a hitch.
We play the typical party games, guess the baby food flavor, diaper changing races, and even a game where the guests have to guess the weight of my belly (which was a little too accurate for comfort). The energy is high, and I feel completely surrounded by love.
My mom is chatting with Nicole, and they seem to be getting along really well. Noah is always there, always by my side, making sure I’m comfortable and relaxed. He’s been nothing but supportive through all of this, and I feel so grateful.
As the party winds down and everyone starts to head out, I realize just how much I’ve grown.
Standing up to Courtney feels like something the old Blossom would have been scared to do.
I glance around the room, taking in the laughter, the hugs, and the joy that’s surrounded me today.
This is the beginning of a new chapter.
I can’t wait to see what comes next.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Noah
I wake up earlier than usual, the warm glow of the morning light creeping through the curtains.
Today’s the day I’ve been planning for weeks, and I can feel the excitement building in my chest.
Blossom is still asleep, her steady breathing filling the room as I slip out of bed quietly, careful not to wake her.
For so long, I thought letting go of Whittney meant betraying her memory. But today, standing on the edge of forever with Blossom, I realize love isn’t about replacing the past—it’s about building a future.
I head to the lobby to meet with a specialty vendor who’s arriving early to drop off prints for a surprise I’ve been working on for Blossom. I can’t wait for her to see it, to see how much I appreciate her and her work.
I spot the printer in the lobby, waiting with a set of large, rolled-up prints under his arm. He gives me a friendly nod as I approach. “Morning, Mr. Hudson,” he greets me.
“Morning,” I reply with a smile. “Let’s get these up. Where do you recommend we start hanging them?”
He raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Well, we could start with the big pieces, but I’m guessing you want these spread out, huh?”
I nod. “All over the hotel. Every room. Every hallway.”
The printer looks taken aback for a moment, then grins. “Got it. Let’s do it.”
As we start to roll out the prints and begin hanging them around the hotel, I can’t help but feel a rush of anticipation. Today, I’m giving Blossom something she’ll never expect. And it’s going to be perfect.
We begin working quickly, moving from one section of the hotel to the next, carefully placing the prints in locations that highlight their beauty. I’m thrilled with how it’s all coming together.
Blossom’s work is stunning. I’ve printed landscapes from her travels, cityscapes from her time in New York, and shots of quiet, serene moments that capture a beauty I’ve been missing in the world until I met her.
I found the images by accident while I was going through her files, looking for something unrelated. But when I saw the photos, I couldn’t stop looking. They were filled with life, vibrancy, and an honesty that I knew would be perfect for the hotel.
As the printer and I hang each piece, I can already picture Blossom’s reaction, her face lighting up as she walks through the hotel, seeing her work displayed everywhere. I know it will mean the world to her, and it means just as much to me, to showher how much I truly see her, how much I want to support her dreams.
We place the last print in the hallway near the bar, and I take a step back, admiring how everything looks. The hotel is transformed, each piece adding something unique to the space. I can’t wait for Blossom to see them.
Just as we finish up in the lobby, Nicole rolls by, taking a quick glance at the artwork hanging on the walls. She stops and stares for a moment, clearly impressed. “Wow, these are beautiful,” she says, her voice soft with admiration.
I smile, watching her take in the work. “They are, aren’t they? It’s all Blossom’s. Her photos.”
