Page 61 of Triplet Babies
Once out of the clinic, after making my next appointment, Nina helps me to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I sit in the passenger seat clutching the folder while she starts the engine, and both of us remain quiet as we process what just happened.
“Triplets,” she finally says, shaking her head in amazement. “Three babies, Sarah.”
“I know.” The words feel inadequate. “I can’t... How do I even begin to handle three babies?”
“You don’t handle them alone. You have help. You have Yarik.”
“Do I?” The question comes out with a brittle laugh. “He’s engaged to another woman. He made promises to someone else before he even knew I existed.”
Nina pulls into traffic, glancing at me with concern. “He also said he wanted to build a future with you. That has to count for something.”
“What kind of future? As his mistress while he stays married to Katya for business reasons? I won’t do that. I won’t raise our children in the shadows while he pretends to love someone else in public.” I sound angry, and I am, but not at Nina. I’m angry at myself and the choices I’ve made, and I’m angry at Yarik. I’m also angry at the universe or whatever deity thought me having triplets was a good idea.
She shrugs off my angry tone, sounding brisk but sympathetic when she says, “Tell him about the babies and make him choose.”
The thought terrifies me. Using my pregnancy as leverage feels manipulative, even if the babies are his. I want him to choose me because he loves me, not because he’s trapped by biology and obligation.
We drive in silence until Nina pulls into the parking lot of a small shopping center. Without planning to, I ask her to stop at the baby boutique on the corner. The decision surprises both of usbut suddenly, I need to touch something real and connected to the future growing inside me.
The store is filled with soft pastels and gentle music. Cribs, strollers, and tiny clothes create a maze of possibilities that should feel overwhelming but instead brings an unexpected sense of peace. For the first time since seeing those three heartbeats on the monitor, I allow myself to imagine this could actually happen, and the anger starts to fade away.
I end up in the newborn section, running my fingers over impossibly small onesies. Three cream-colored ones catch my attention because they’re simple, soft, and perfect while being gender-neutral in case my ultrasound today was wrong. I pick them up, one for each baby, and press my fingers together to steady them as I hold the tiny clothes.
“Those are beautiful,” Nina says softly behind me.
Yarik would hold one of our children like this, carefully, probably too carefully at first, while learning how to be gentle in ways I know he’s capable of despite the dangerous world he inhabits. The image feels so real I have to bite my lip to keep from crying right there in the store. “I’m buying them.”
She doesn’t question the decision. She stands beside me at the register while I purchase the onesies, along with three soft blankets in pale yellow. The cashier smiles warmly as she wraps everything in tissue paper.
“First baby?” she asks kindly.
“Three, actually. Triplets.”
Her expression lights up with genuine excitement. “How wonderful! Congratulations. You’re going to be busy, but it’s such a blessing.”
A blessing. The word stays with me as we leave the store, and maybe that’s exactly what this is despite the timing and complications. Three healthy babies are worth fighting for and worth demanding more from Yarik than stolen moments and vague promises.
Walking back to Nina’s car, I pull out my phone and type a message to Yarik:Thank you for last night. I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said. Let’s talk soon.
I hit send before I can second-guess myself. The folder with the ultrasound results sits in my purse like evidence of the future we could have, and he deserves to know. Our children deserve a father who chooses them openly, who doesn’t hide them from the world.
As we cross the parking lot, movement catches my attention near the edge of the lot, where several cars are parked in shadow. A tall figure stands between two vehicles, too far away to identify but close enough to make my skin crawl with sudden recognition.
I stop walking abruptly. The height, the posture, and the way he holds himself create a familiar silhouette that makes me tremble, and I almost drop my shopping bag.
“Sarah? What’s wrong?”
I turn my head to point out the figure to Nina, but when I look back, he’s gone. The space between the cars is empty, but I still sense someone watching me. “There was someone... I thoughtI saw...” I trail off, scanning the parking lot for any sign of movement.
Nina follows my gaze, her expression growing concerned. “Saw what?”
“Nothing. Maybe nothing.” My pulse jumps. That wasn’t nothing. The figure had been too familiar, too much like the man I spent months running from.
She opens her mouth to say something just as my phone rings, and Yarik’s name appears on the screen. I stare at it, thumb hovering over the answer button. Suddenly, all the hope I had moments ago evaporates. How can I tell him about the babies when I might have brought danger back into both our lives? How can I ask him to leave his world behind when mine might be catching up to us?
The phone continues ringing. Nina watches me with growing alarm as I make no move to answer it.
“Sarah, answer the phone.”
