Page 15

T hree Peas In A Pod

The emergency room buzzes with activity, nurses and doctors moving with efficient haste. Azazel paces the sterile hallway, his muscular frame exuding impatience and concern. He watches as Cherrie, his beloved, is wheeled away for tests, her face a mask of distress. The events of the past hour replay in his mind. He runs a hand through his short black hair, his eyes narrowing with determination. "I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe," he vows under his breath. "Nothing and no one will take her from me."

Time seems to crawl as he awaits news of Cherrie's condition. He considers the unthinkable—losing the only person who understands and matches his darker impulses. It’s a vulnerable position for someone like him to be in, someone used to being in control and inflicting harm, not feeling so utterly helpless. Finally, a doctor emerges, her expression somber but not unkind. "Mr. Yanagra, I believe you're anxious to hear about Cherrie's condition. Please come with me; we can discuss this in private."

Azazel follows the doctor into a small consultation room, his heart pounding in his chest. "Is she okay? What did you find?" he asks, his deep voice laced with urgency.

The doctor, Dr. Adams, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, gestures for him to sit. "Mr. Yanagra, Mrs. Yanagra is stable and doing well. The fainting was a cause for concern, but we've determined that it was a result of the, shall we say, enthusiastic result of your intimate activities." Azazel feels a wave of relief wash over him, and he slumps back in his chair. "Thank God," he whispers, his shoulders sagging with the release of tension. “Wait, what?”

Dr. Adams continues, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "However, I must say, the two of you need to be more careful. The good news is that Cherrie is healthy and there's been no serious damage. But it seems this incident has led to an unexpected discovery."

Azazel, sensing something momentous, leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "What discovery?" Dr. Adams pauses, ensuring she has his full attention. "Mr. Yanagra, Cherrie is pregnant. And, quite surprisingly, she's carrying triplets." The room seems to spin as the words sink in. Azazel, whose life has been defined by chaos and unpredictability, feels his world tilt on its axis. He’s going to be a father. Not just to one, but to three children.

"T-triplets?" he stammers, his voice cracking. "Are you certain?"

Dr. Adams nods, her expression softening. "Yes, Mr. Yanagra. We ran several tests to confirm. Cherrie is approximately eight weeks along, and all three embryos are healthy and developing normally." Azazel's mind races. He thinks of Cherrie's adventurous spirit, her psycho charm that so perfectly compliments his own unhinged nature. They’re a match made in Hell, and now, they will be parents together.

"Can I see her?" he questions, his voice hoarse. "I need to talk to Cherrie."

Dr. Adams stands and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Of course. She's been anxious to see you as well. Just remember, Mr. Yanagra, this news may be a shock, but it's a beautiful one. Many would consider triplets a blessing."

Azazel nods, still processing this monumental turn of events. He feels a mix of emotions—excitement, fear, protectiveness, and a touch of panic. He’s a man of extreme actions and reactions, and now he has to consider, not just his own impulsive nature, but the lives of three tiny humans who will depend on him and Cherrie.

Cherrie lay in her hospital bed, her hand resting on her stomach. The reality of the situation has begun to sink in, and she feels a mixture of elation and apprehension. She looks up when Azazel enters, his tall frame filling the doorway. There’s a mix of emotions on his face that she can’t quite read, and it makes her heart clench.

Moving to her side, Azazel takes her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "My love," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Are you alright? How are you feeling?"

Cherrie smiles, her eyes shining. "I'm good, Baby. Just processing everything. Triplets, Az! We're having triplets!" Azazel's expression softens as he takes in her joyous demeanor. He feels a surge of protectiveness envelop him–a need to shield her and their unborn children from any harm. "I know, my love. It's a lot to take in. Are you sure you're alright? The doctor said you're healthy, but I need to hear it from you."

Cherrie's smile widens at his concern. She knows Azazel's dark side, his possessiveness, and his over-protectiveness, but in this moment, it only makes her feel cherished and safe. "I'm perfect, baby. They're perfect. Our little twisted trio," she adds with a laugh, her adventurous spirit already embracing the challenge.

Azazel's features relax into a rare, genuine smile. He knows that Cherrie's resilience and her embrace of their unpredictable lives will be an asset as they navigate parenthood together. "Our lives are never boring, that's for sure. I guess we're in for quite a ride, Cherub."