Page 44 of Secret Twins for the Alien Dad

I think about the carefree guy I met in the casino all those months ago and compare him to the mature man sitting before me. The man who stepped up in every way to be a father to his child.

And then I think about myself, how alone and scared I felt back then. I wasn’t living. I was just surviving. But he’s taught me to trust, to open my heart to someone because sometimes pushing past the fear of betrayal is worth the joy of being proven wrong about the world’s cruelties.

“Myra,” he says anxiously. “Myra, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped all this on you, especially right now when you have a million other things to worry about. If it all feels too much like a burden, I can go, or…”

“It’s okay,” I reply, taking his large, scaly hand in mine and entwining our fingers together. “I’m just processing it, but I’m so glad you told me and that you feel the same way about me as I do about you.”

I bring his knuckles to my lips in a brief kiss. “If you’re worried about proving yourself, you don't have to be. You’ve gone above and beyond for me – forus– and you have no idea how grateful I am. How could I not love you after everything you are and everything you’ve done?”

He leans in for a kiss, coming close but pausing before our lips connect in a silent request for permission, one that I gladly grant by closing the gap between us.

Our lips meet, and for the second time today, my world tilts on its axis. The babies and I are healthy. I am free. I am in love with my soulmate. Behind me, the heart monitor blares a warning loud enough for a nurse to poke her head in.

“Everything okay in here?” she asks.

Reluctantly, we part. I grin at her, feeling giddy and euphoric with joy as I give her a thumbs up. “Everything’s perfect.”

She arches an eyebrow, looking rather unimpressed. “Try not to excite the patient too much, please.”

Zair laughs sheepishly. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”

She shoots us another warning look before moving on to wherever she needs to go. We both watch her leave, dissolving into giggles when she’s out of earshot. Zair takes his seat by my bedside again, wiping the tears from my eyes.

And then something occurs to me. “Wait, so with this fated mate thing, is that how you know all my pregnancy cravings?”

His skin blushes a dark teal. “…Maybe?”

I throw my head back and laugh as the reason behind his occasional cagey behavior slots into place like the missing piece to a puzzle. “This explains so much.”

22

ZAIR

The beeping of the scanner is both reassuring and worrying at the same time as it paces out the babies’ heartbeat. The contractions have stopped for some time now. But I’m glad they’re being careful and keeping an eye on them. Myra grips my hand a little tighter as the consultant comes in.

“We’ve had all the results back,” she tells us. “Everything is normal, and the babies are doing fine.”

We both breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful,” exclaims Myra, the emotion welling up in her voice.

“Does that mean I can take her home?” I want to know.

“Yes, you can,” says the consultant with a smile. She turns to Myra. “You will need to come in for regular monitoring, and you will need to download a scanner app on your comm-pad.”

“No problem,” she says, sitting up in bed.

The consultant presses some buttons on the scanner control panel and the machine goes silent. The colored monitoring lights that have adorned Myra’s chest and stomach wink out, their job done.

“Okay, you’re free to go,” says the still-smiling consultant. “With your new app, we can continue to monitor you from here. But don’t hesitate to come back in if you are worried about anything.”

“Thank you so much,” I say, helping Myra off the bed and into her shoes. I can’t imagine how awkward everything must be for her with her belly so big and swollen.

“Would you like to come back to my apartment?” I ask once the consultant has left the room. “Eva is wonderful, but I thought it might give us some privacy to get to know each other better.”

“I’d love to,” Myra replies without hesitation. I still can’t believe she’s so responsive to the idea of fated mates.

Later that evening, we are sitting on the couch together, the remains of our meal scattered before us. I would not believe she could eat so much if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. “I’m eating for two,” she explains with a laugh. “It takes a lot of energy to build a baby, much less two.”

She has her head on my shoulder. It feels so wonderful, and I could sit like this forever. But I want to do something nice for her. “Shall I run you a bath?” I ask.

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