Page 132 of What if It's Us

He brushes his knuckles against my cheek and brings his lips to mine. “You’re not the only one who got more than he bargained for, Mar.”

I reach up and pluck a rogue speck of glitter from his hairline. “You, sir, are sparkling.”

“Always,” he says with a wink. “It’s called dad radiance.”

We sit like this for a beat, the TV off, the apartment still. My fingers find his.

“You still scared?” I ask him quietly.

We haven’t really talked about his dad since that one night a while back. I feel guilty for not following up with him about his feelings.

He turns to look at me. “Terrified. But also…I’m kind of in awe. You’re growing life inside you. Three lives.” He places his palm on my stomach just as one of the babies kicks.

Ledger beams. “I’ll never get tired of feeling that. It’s weird as fuck, but it’s magic at the same time.”

I snort. “Yeah. Magic with nausea, swollen ankles, and a suspicious need to cry during paper towel commercials.”

“Still magic,” he says firmly. “Messy, hormonal, slightly unstable magic. And I love just about every minute of it. I could do without those emergency room visits though.”

“Yeah.”

We’re both quiet and I wonder for a moment if Ledger has fallen asleep. But then he says, “I think we’re going to be okay. Even if we don’t know what we’re doing.”

I tighten my hand around his. “We’ll learn. Probably after we screw everything up once or twice.”

“Probably,” he says, grinning.

He leans in and kisses my forehead again. “Next party for any reason, I swear I’ll tone it down.”

“No glitter cannons?”

“Okay, maybe one glitter cannon.”

I roll my eyes nudge his side. “Deal.”

From somewhere in Ledger’s hair, a final piece of glitter drifts down and lands on my shoulder.

“Your scalp is literally shedding sparkle,” I mutter.

He grins. “That’s just paternal glow. You wouldn’t understand.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

LEDGER

Marlee is knee-deep in baby laundry. Onesies. Tiny socks. Hats so small they look like they belong to woodland creatures. And with three of everything the laundry basket is overflowing. I balance a baby name book on one knee and a snack bowl on the other.

“Okay, we’re naming three humans. This is a high-stakes operation. We cannot mess this up.”

Marlee holds up a onesie with the phraseI Made the Line Change Worth Itembroidered across it. “We already made three humans. Naming them should be the easy part.”

“What if we go with a theme? Like cool explorers or famous inventors?” I suggest, squinting at the lists of names in the book.

“Okay,” she says. “Pitch me.”

“Alright: Edison, Tesla, and… uh… Bagel.”

Marlee slowly turns to stare at me. “We talked about this. Bagel is not a name.”

---