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There are enough balloons in here to float a small car. And there’s a massive banner stretched across the wall, reading in blocky glitter letters: MARLEE’S BABY BASH!

Confetti falls from the ceiling in slow, menacing puffs as the entire team, including the front office personnel, Scarlett, Corrigan, Layken, Ella, and Blakely shout, “SURPRISE” the moment they see me.

“Oh, my God,” I say, carefully stepping over a decorative hockey puck diaper cake. “What is happening?”

Ledger appears from behind a pile of stuffed animals stacked to look like a net. He’s wearing a shirt that says DAD IN TRAINING with printed arrows pointing to different spots that read BACK SUPPORT , BURP ZONE , and SNACKS HERE .

He beams. “Surprise, babe! I’m throwing you a baby shower!”

I look around the room again.

One table is covered in cupcakes, each one decorated like a different pregnancy symptom. There’s ‘Heartburn Hazelnut,’ ‘Nausea Nougat,’ and ‘Mood Swing Mint’.

Another table has a mini stick-handling course labeled: Test Your parent Reflexes: Save the Falling Baby Bottle .

“Oh my God,” I whisper, both horrified and touched.

“I may have gone slightly overboard,” Ledger admits, cringing as he pulls me gently toward the center of the room. “But it’s all scientifically designed to distract you from the crushing anxiety of pregnancy.”

“By making me more anxious?” I ask jokingly, gesturing toward the cardboard cutout of myself that he’s placed next to a hand-drawn bracket titled: “Baby Name Showdown: Tournament of Champions”

He grins. “Exactly.”

A karaoke machine powers on with a familiar Stevie Wonder tune and Griffin excitedly grabs the mic.

“This one’s for the mom-to-be!” he croons. “Isn’t She Lo—OVULATING.”

I groan and bury my face in Ledger’s chest. “Please tell me there’s actual food.”

“Yep. I ordered a catering spread of pregnancy-safe delights,” he announces proudly. “No soft cheeses, zero deli meat, and exactly one mocktail bar featuring five flavors of ginger.”

I blink. “Wait…you actually did the research?”

“Of course I did.” He shrugs. “You Google panic at 2 A.M. enough times, a guy starts reading WebMD for fun.”

The lengths that this man goes to for my happiness is unreal.

I tilt my head up to kiss him. “This is insane. But also…really sweet.”

He loops his arms around me. “You’ve been carrying three tiny humans for seven months. You deserve to be celebrated—even if that means wading through balloon-based safety hazards.”

“Waddling you mean.”

He kisses my forehead. “Whatever. You’re perfect.”

A shriek comes from the corner and all eyes are on August standing with a diaper pinata on his head.

“Uh fuck!” Bodhi shouts. “The diaper pinata fell on someone again.”

“Again?” Ledger sighs and then winces. “Like I said. I may have gone slightly overboard.”

God, he’s so cute. “Promise me next time we do this, it’s in a normal restaurant with less glitter.”

Ledger smirked. “Okay. But only if they’ll let me bring the ‘Guess That Baby Food’ roulette wheel.”

“Deal.”

The door clicks shut behind us and silence settles over the apartment like a cozy blanket. No balloon explosions, no rogue karaoke attempts, no ‘Mood Swing Mint’ cupcakes.

I sigh, exhausted as I drop my keys in the bowl, and toe off my shoes. “Well… that was a glitter-soaked fever dream.”

Ledger sets down the diaper gift basket someone labeled Emergency Blowout Kit and flops dramatically onto the couch. “We’ll be finding confetti in the car for the next six years.”

“Tell me about it.” I shuffle over and collapse beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. “You really went all out.”

“I panicked,” he admits. “I wanted to make you feel special. And distracted. And like you’re not doing this alone.”

I lift my head to glance up at him. His shirt still says DAD IN TRAINING , though one of the arrows is now pointing to his armpit.

“I do feel special,” I tell him. “Also mildly concussed from the balloon arch collapsing.”

“I’ll work on my structural integrity next time,” he say nodding.

“Oh Ledger,” I huff a laugh as I rub my enormous belly. “It’s cute that you think there will be a next time.”

“What? You don’t want to go through this pregnancy thing again? We could have a whole brood of kids. You’d be great at it.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” I laugh. “I think three is just fine. I think I got way more than I bargained for with you, Ledger Dayne, so I’ll stop while I’m ahead.”

He brushes his knuckles against my cheek and brings his lips to mine. “You’re not the only one who got more than he bargained for, Mar.”

I reach up and pluck a rogue speck of glitter from his hairline. “You, sir, are sparkling.”

“Always,” he says with a wink. “It’s called dad radiance.”

We sit like this for a beat, the TV off, the apartment still. My fingers find his.

“You still scared?” I ask him quietly.

We haven’t really talked about his dad since that one night a while back. I feel guilty for not following up with him about his feelings.

He turns to look at me. “Terrified. But also…I’m kind of in awe. You’re growing life inside you. Three lives.” He places his palm on my stomach just as one of the babies kicks.

Ledger beams. “I’ll never get tired of feeling that. It’s weird as fuck, but it’s magic at the same time.”

I snort. “Yeah. Magic with nausea, swollen ankles, and a suspicious need to cry during paper towel commercials.”

“Still magic,” he says firmly. “Messy, hormonal, slightly unstable magic. And I love just about every minute of it. I could do without those emergency room visits though.”

“Yeah.”

We’re both quiet and I wonder for a moment if Ledger has fallen asleep. But then he says, “I think we’re going to be okay. Even if we don’t know what we’re doing.”

I tighten my hand around his. “We’ll learn. Probably after we screw everything up once or twice.”

“Probably,” he says, grinning.

He leans in and kisses my forehead again. “Next party for any reason, I swear I’ll tone it down.”

“No glitter cannons?”

“Okay, maybe one glitter cannon.”

I roll my eyes nudge his side. “Deal.”

From somewhere in Ledger’s hair, a final piece of glitter drifts down and lands on my shoulder.

“Your scalp is literally shedding sparkle,” I mutter.

He grins. “That’s just paternal glow. You wouldn’t understand.”