Page 140 of Loving Wild

“Are they okay? What are they doing? Why’s she crying like that?” is the only response I get.

A few hours later, we’re set up in a room. After receiving oxygen, the twins are breathing well on their own. The only concerning issue they’re both having is maintaining their body temperatures, so I currently have Ruby held naked against my bare chest while Lauren attempts to get Reef to suckle.

I watch as she strokes our son’s blond head, as his tiny fingers dig into her bare breast. Her hair is piled on top of her head, her skin is pale, and she has dark circles under her eyes, but she has never looked more beautiful than she does right now.

“I love you,” I tell her from the chair beside the bed I’m sitting in. Lauren looks up and smiles at me. “I’ve never loved you more than I do right now.” I reach out with the hand that’s not pressed against Ruby’s back, for hers, watching as her eyes fill with tears.

“Are you seriously gonna cry again?”

“Already am.” She sniffs.

“Woman . . .”

“Don’t call me woman,” she snaps.

* * *

Lauren.

Gabe’s headappears from between my legs at the same moment I push up on my elbows. He wipes his hand across his wet mouth, but his dark whiskers still glisten.

“Daaaaaaaaad!” The shout that interrupted my husband doing what he was doing to me goes out again.

“Now fucking what?” Gabe questions as he climbs out of bed, pulls on a pair of boardies, and heads towards the bedroom door to find out what Ava’s problem is.

We had around a hundred people here last night celebrating her twenty-first birthday. I’ve no idea how many have stayed over.

We came to bed as the sun was coming up in the early hours of this morning, and there were bodies everywhere, but the house is big enough to accommodate them.

Once the renovations were completed, we ended up with a stunning six-bedroomed home, creating enough space to allow Ava to have her own wing of the house. This is the reason she hasn’t yet moved out.

After climbing out of bed and pulling on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, I follow Gabe down the hallway and into our family room, which is surprisingly empty of bodies. Gabe’s family had all claimed a bedroom last night, most of our friends had called an uber or taxi and gone home, it was mostly Ava’s friends who had stayed, and as I follow Gabe into her half of the house, I can see this is where the party must’ve kicked on and kept going through the night.

Ava has a large open living area and a small kitchen that leads out through a set of sliding doors to the pool. Down a short hallway are two bedrooms, both with ensuites.

I take note of the bodies still sleeping on the sofa and floor and move towards the crowd gathering around the sliding doors.

Dani turns, a big smile on her face and shakes her head as she sees us approach. The sound of someone singing ‘American Pie’ travels in from outside, and I know exactly who that someone is.

“Good luck sorting this one out, bro,” she says and pats Gabe on the back as he passes.

Gabe pushes his way through the crowd then comes to a stop. After almost colliding with his back, I step around him.

Ava, who’s just about to complete her second year at RMIT studying fashion and design, is standing with her hands on her hips. Her boyfriend, Finn, next to her with his arms folded across his bare chest, is leaning in to say something in her ear.

“Look at what she’s done. Have you seen her face? My dress? The makeup pallet?” Ava throws her arm out and says to Gabe when she sees him approach.

“Fuck me,” I hear Gabe mumble as we both look at Ruby our seven-year-old, who’s currently standing in the middle of the outdoor table, wearing Ava’s Stella McCartney dress she had on for the party last night, her face painted with every colour from Ava’s favourite Urban Decay makeup pallet, wearing Ava’s pink Gucci sunglasses, and Bose noise-cancelling headphones, as she sings ‘American Pie’ into a beer bottle.

“Wonder where she got the beer bottle mic idea from?” Gabe questions.

“No idea,” I reply.

“I told her not to touch the makeup, told her Avie would be mad,” Reef—don’t ask. I got to pick Ruby, Gabe got to give our son his name—says when he appears beside me. “I was gonna come and find you, but Dani said you’d probably be doing kissing stuff like you always are in the morning.” My kid smiles up at me, and it instantly becomes apparent when I spot the lipstick around his mouth that he’s not entirely innocent in all of this.

“Did you touch the makeup, bud?” Gabe asks while trying to keep a straight face.

“Nuh ah,” Reef says with a head shake, his blond curls moving with the effort he puts in. “That shi . . . stuffs for girls, not boys.”