Page 71

"No, no," she says quickly. "The baby is fine. Babies, actually."

"Babies?" I repeat, my voice increasing an octave. I swallow hard.

She opens the folder and hands me a black and white printout. I stare at it, trying to make sense of the grainy image. "I don't understand."

"Twins, Charlie." Her voice is quiet but clear. "We're having twins."

I blink, trying to focus on the ultrasound image again. Tess's finger points to two distinct shapes.

"This one," she says, touching one blob, "and this one. Two separate amniotic sacs. The doctor says they're fraternal."

"Twins," I echo, the word so weighted. My brain scrambles to recalibrate everything—all my careful mental adjustments for one baby suddenly obsolete. Two cribs. Two car seats. Two of everything.

"Are you okay?" Tess asks, her head tilted as she studies my face.

I realize I've been silent too long. "I'm just...surprised." I force a smile that I hope looks more genuine than it feels. "Twins. That's...holy crap…that’s…wow."

"That's exactly what I said." She laughs, but it's a nervous sound. "The doctor thinks I'm about six weeks along. With twins they'll likely come early—around 36 weeks instead of 40."

My mind races through mental calculations. Thirty-six weeks from now lands in the middle of our planned expansion into the Midwest—Chicago and Minneapolis. The two most important market launches in Emerald City Coffee's history. With investors expecting me at every opening, at every meeting.

"Charlie?" Tess's voice pulls me back.

"Sorry, just trying to take it all in." I reach for her hand, needing to anchor myself. Her fingers are cool against my palm. "How are you feeling about all this?"

"Terrified," she admits, and the honesty in her voice cuts through some of my panic. "One baby was already a huge change. But two? I don't know how we're going to manage."

The word "we" hangs between us, full of expectations and assumptions. I squeeze her hand, trying to convince both of us that I'm up to the task.

"We'll figure it out," I say, because what else can I say? "Together."

She studies my face for a moment, like she's searching for something. "The doctor says I'll need to be especially careful. Twin pregnancies are higher risk. More appointments, more monitoring."

"I'll be there," I promise, guilt surging through me as I remember I've already broken this promise once. "For all of it."

"Even with the expansions coming up?" she asks, her gaze steady.

I'd talked about the expansion many times, before we knew about the pregnancy. "I'll make it work."

"How?" she presses.

"I'll delegate more. Shift some responsibilities." The words sound hollow even to me. The Chicago launch has been my obsession for months—every detail personally overseen, every decision carefully made. The idea of stepping back feels wrong. "Sanjay can handle more. I’ve been grooming him for this."

Tess nods, but I can see she's not convinced. Honestly, neither am I.

I try to picture it—two tiny humans, part Tess, part me. Sleepless nights. First steps. First words. First day of school.

The calendar in my head, already packed with business commitments and travel, explodes into an impossible jumble.

"My mom's going to lose her mind," I say, attempting to lighten the mood. "She's been dropping hints about grandchildren to both Jane and me for over a decade."

Tess smiles, and some of the tension eases from her shoulders. "Jane's already talking about throwing a huge baby shower for us."

I laugh, the sound coming out more naturally this time. "God help us."

She leans into me then, her head resting against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

"We can do this," she whispers, and I'm not sure if she's trying to convince me or herself.