Page 15 of The Wreckage Of Us (US #2)

Three Years Later

Today is the twins' second birthday.

I woke up before the sun did. It was still dark outside, that deep-blue kind of quiet that belongs only to mornings like this.

The kind that holds memories. I didn't even hear the birds yet.

Just the slow, soft breaths of Aceson sleeping beside me and the rhythmic whir of the baby monitor that sat permanently on my nightstand.

Even though the twins were technically toddlers now, I still checked that monitor like they were fragile little porcelain dolls.

I blinked up at the ceiling, my fingers curled over the warm blanket.

My heart was full-too full. It pulsed so hard in my chest it almost hurt.

Two years ago, at this exact time, I was in an OR, pale as hell, half-conscious, and terrified.

Two years ago, my babies were pulled from me before my body was ready to let them go.

I should be sleeping, I know. But how could I sleep when today is their day?

I turned toward Ace. His face was peaceful in sleep, his lashes fanned against his cheek, and the smallest part of his hand touched mine. Just a graze. I slid my fingers into his palm, squeezed gently, then rolled out of bed without waking him. Not yet.

I padded across the wooden floor of our bedroom, wrapped in my satin robe.

The early morning light had started creeping in through the big windows overlooking our backyard-the same backyard where a pastel bouncy castle would be inflated in just a few hours.

Karla helped pick it out. Of course she did.

I stopped by the twins' room.

The door creaked when I opened it, and there they were.

Amaya, curled in a ball like a little sunflower, her wild curls fanned against her pillow.

Atis, sprawled out like a king, pacifier still in his mouth, blanket barely covering his tiny body.

Two years. Two full years of love, exhaustion, hope, and healing.

Tears stung my eyes as I leaned against the doorframe.

"Mama's here," I whispered.

I tiptoed to Amaya first and gently tucked her in.

She didn't stir. Her lashes fluttered a little.

Her tiny fingers clutched the edge of her blankie-one that Karla picked out the day we brought them home.

I kissed her forehead. Then I did the same with Atis, brushing the dark hair off his forehead.

He looked so much like Ace it almost broke me sometimes.

I sat on the rocking chair in their room and let myself cry. Not loudly. Not the kind of cry that makes noise. Just tears. I clutched the armrests and let them fall freely.

I remembered the moment the doctor told us I wouldn't be able to carry children.

I remembered the silence. The way Ace's hand tightened in mine, not with anger or frustration, but with protection.

I remembered how I broke down in the bathroom afterward, thinking I'd never be a mother.

And Ace, my Ace, just held me through it all.

"Brittany?" I heard his voice behind me.

I turned. He was leaning against the doorframe, in his boxers, his hair messy, sleep still clinging to his face. But his eyes... his eyes were on me.

"I didn't want to wake you," I whispered, brushing my face quickly.

He walked in and crouched beside me.

"You're crying," he said gently, brushing his thumb under my eye.

"I know," I laughed through a sob. "I'm just... it's their birthday, Ace. I can't believe they're two. I can't believe we made it here."

He took my hand. "I can."

His voice cracked.

"I always believed in you. In us. Even when things got hard. Even when the doctor told us we couldn't. Britt, you never gave up. You carried them. You brought them into this world, even if it almost broke you. You are the strongest woman I know."

I saw it. The gloss in his eyes. He was crying.

He exhaled sharply and lowered his forehead to my lap, his hands wrapping tightly around my waist. "I was so scared. That night... when they rushed you in. I thought I was going to lose you."

I cradled his head and ran my fingers through his hair. "But you didn't. We're here, Ace. We're home."

He nodded against my leg. "Yeah. We are."

We stayed like that for a while. Just the two of us, in a room that once felt like a dream and now smelled of baby lotion and stuffed animals. The sun started rising higher, casting golden rays across the floor. And soon, the house started stirring.

Karla's laughter echoed down the hallway. Jasper's voice followed-teasing, loud. Corinne was probably right behind him, already setting things in the kitchen.

"Should we wake the twins?" I asked.

Ace stood and kissed my forehead. "Let's do it together."

---

The twins blinked awake, confused by the streamers Karla had somehow already taped across their cribs. "Happy birthday!" I whispered.

"Mama," Amaya mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Atis reached for Ace immediately.

"I got you, little man," Ace said, lifting him with ease. Atis snuggled into his chest like he belonged nowhere else.

Karla peeked in, bouncing with energy. "Can I take them downstairs? Please, please, please!"

I laughed. "Slow down, Karla. You'll scare them."

Karla rolled her eyes dramatically, but I saw the love in them. She adored the twins. Protected them like a lioness.

Soon, the whole house was buzzing. The smell of pancakes and syrup filled the air. Jasper manned the kitchen like a pro while Corinne arranged cupcakes with pastel frosting. And tried to stop her twins from eating everything.

"Birthday breakfast is sacred!" Jasper announced.

"Only if you don't burn it," Corinne teased.

The backyard was transformed. Jasper and Ace had worked all week on it. Fairy lights were strung between trees. Balloons floated everywhere. The bouncy castle stood proudly in the middle, pink and blue.

"Think we overdid it?" I asked Corinne.

She scoffed. "Please. This is modest. Wait until they're five. I nearly had a heart attack when mine did"

I took a deep breath and looked around. The laughter, the mess, the joy... this was everything I ever wanted.

Later that day, after cake and games, after the twins had gone down for their nap and the house was quiet again, I sat outside with Ace. He poured me a glass of white wine, and we sat on the porch swing.

"I think this was the best day of my life," I said.

"Better than our wedding?" he smirked.

"Well... you cried that day too."

"I'm not ashamed," he said with a chuckle. "Real men cry when they marry the love of their life."

I rested my head on his shoulder. "You cried today too."

He didn't deny it.

"I look at them, Ace... and I still can't believe they're ours. I was so sure I'd never get to do this. And now... they're here. Running around in diapers, stealing my makeup, calling you 'Dada.'"

He kissed my forehead. "I knew you were meant to be a mom."

I turned to face him. "Do you ever feel sad that we can't have more?"

His eyes softened. "I'd be lying if I said the thought doesn't cross my mind. But then I remember what we went through. And I look at you. And them. And I know this-this is enough. We're enough."

Tears welled in my eyes again.

"I was so scared," I admitted. "When the doctor said my body was too damaged. I felt... broken."

"You were never broken, Britt," he said fiercely. "You were healing. And you still are. But never broken."

We held each other.

Later that night, after everyone had gone home and the house had fallen quiet again, I stood by the twins' cribs. They were both sound asleep. Amaya had her arms wrapped around her stuffed bunny. Atis had kicked his blanket off again, as usual.

I brushed a hand over each of their foreheads.

"I'm so lucky to be your mom," I whispered.

I turned to see Ace standing in the doorway, watching me.

I smiled. "I think today was perfect."

He crossed the room and pulled me into his arms. "You make every day perfect."

And in the stillness of that night, with our babies safe and asleep, with love wrapped around us like a warm blanket, I let myself believe it.

We were whole.

We were home.