Page 123 of Sin Bin Daddies
Madeline blinks. “Three what?”
“Triplets,” he says. “You’re carrying three fetuses. All viable. All with strong, distinct heartbeats.”
The machine beeps. A rapid sound. I recognize it as one of their hearts. Then another.
Then a third.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ford
Madeline’s fingersare still clutching mine. Asher exhales beside her, low and long.
“You’re sure?” I ask, even though the proof is right there on the screen.
“Very sure,” the doctor says, pointing to the monitor. “One, two, three. Congratulations. You’ve hit the genetic lottery.”
Madeline laughs, a sound so unlike her usual that it borders on panic. “Triplets?”
“Yes. It explains the nausea, the fatigue, the early bloating. Your body’s working overtime already.”
I lean down, kiss her temple, my hand brushing her hair off her cheek. She turns toward me, eyes wide and shiny.
I don’t even know how she’s keeping it together. But she is. Brave and stubborn and beautiful in this clinical, sterile room with our lives changing by the second.
The doctor walks us through what she’ll need now. More rest. Nutrient-rich food. Frequent monitoring. A few medications to support her body through the stress of carrying three.
He doesn’t sugarcoat the risks. Multiple pregnancies are high-risk by nature. But he’s calm. Confident. He’ll watch her closely.
“You’re in good hands,” he says, scribbling down prescriptions. “We’ll schedule biweekly appointments for now. Possibly weekly in the second trimester.”
Asher clears his throat and glances down at her. “How are you feeling, Mads?”
She blinks up at him. Her voice is quiet, but not broken. “Like I need a nap. And a milkshake.”
I grin. “Anything you want.”
She sits up slowly with our help, pulling the gown tighter around herself. “Can you just take me home?”
“Yeah,” I say, curling an arm around her shoulders as we lead her to the bathroom so she can change. “We’ll take you home.”
The drive is quiet. She sits between us in the front seat of Asher’s SUV, tucked under both our arms like we’re guarding treasure.
The city passes in a blur. Palm trees swaying. Sun already high and cruel against the windshield.
My head is still full of that grainy screen and three separate heartbeats that did something to my chest I don’t have a name for.
Triplets.
I keep replaying that over and over, like it’s some surreal chant. The kind that makes my gut twist with nerves and awe.
We pull into her driveway. She leans against my side as we get her out, one shoe dangling from her hand, hair a mess. Asher unlocks the door and we step inside, the cool air brushing against our flushed skin.
She doesn’t say a word, just heads to the couch and curls up like she’s done this a hundred times. Asher gets her a pillow,and I get her a blanket. She’s asleep before either of us finishes fussing.
We sit on the edge of the coffee table across from her.
Asher exhales. “Three.”
