Chapter 78

Sophia

Three days later:

“I know he’s just been born, but he looks just like Gabriel,” Alice sighed dreamily, pointing at the incubator.

Tired after an eight-hour labor, I smiled. Even two days’ rest wasn’t enough; I’d spent every minute worrying about my newborns, both in the NICU due to prematurity. The doctor reassured me that the incubators were a precaution, and they’d be fine, but I worried nonetheless. I was exhausted.

As if understanding Alice, he blinked his brown eyes—undeniably his father’s. It wasn’t just the eyes; the nose, the jaw… two days old, and he was his father’s twin.

“He does,” I pouted. “I carried him for eight months, and he comes out looking just like his father?”

Well, at least I had my little girl. I smiled, watching her sleep peacefully. She was the smaller one, her growth restricted.

“You can name her Alice after me, you know,” my best friend teased. “I’d be honored.”

I giggled.

“I did think of names when I found out I was pregnant,” I told her. “I’m just having doubts now.”

“Take your time,” she said, cooing at the baby. “I can’t wait to hold you. Yes, you! I’m going to spoil you rotten. I love you!”

I giggled again. I was utterly exhausted, and this was the first time in two days they’d both been resting. But I didn’t feel like sleeping. I wanted to savor every moment with them.

It still felt unreal that I had two little ones.

“I think I’ll just go with the names I’ve chosen.”

Alice’s eyes twinkled. “Finally! I won’t have to call them ‘baby boy’ and ‘baby girl.’”

“Aurora,” I said, eyeing my little girl. “Aurora Baker Whitlock.”

“Aurora,” she repeated. “That’s so pretty.”

My smile deepened. “And Alex.”

“Alex Baker Whitlock,” she smiled. “So perfect.”

“Hospital policy is for new mothers to stay forty-eight hours for observation,” my doctor said, a rare smile on his wrinkled face. “Since it’s been two days, and you and your son are doing fine, we can discharge you. We’d like to keep your daughter in the NICU for a week for observation, however.”

My heart pounded. “Why? Is she not okay?” I asked, fear gripping me.

Alice’s hand found mine, and I squeezed it tightly.

The doctor’s eyes flickered to this, and he shook his head. “She’s doing fine,” he said. “But as you know, her growth was restricted. I just want to observe her growth for a week.”

I nodded, offering a weak smile.

“Since your daughter will stay here, I assume you won’t want to leave just yet.”

I shook my head. “Of course not.”

“Would you like to be moved to a room for another week?”

I nodded. I didn’t have much choice. I wouldn’t have minded sleeping on the small couch in the NICU room, but Alex needed space. Once he was out of the incubator, I couldn’t keep him in this makeshift bed. He was only two days old. I needed a room with a crib for Alex, a hospital bed for me, and the incubator for Aurora, so I could be with both my babies.

The doctor left, and the cost of all this dawned on me. I’d paid for the room and birth with Gabriel’s card—thankfully, he hadn’t blocked it yet—but I was sure he would now, after a transaction of thousands of dollars. I was so glad he hadn’t reported it as fraud.

“You have savings,” Alice said, reading my mind. She sat on my hospital bed, and I crossed my legs, slumping.

“No,” I said firmly.

“Soph…” Her voice softened, her eyes filling with tears. “You went through all this alone. I wasn’t there for you. I was your best friend, and I promised to be by your side, no matter what, and you did it all alone—Jim’s passing, Lily, the divorce, living alone… Let me be there for you now, please.”

“And you are,” I told her. “You haven’t left my side these three days. You stayed with the babies all night when I was too tired. You and Luna… you’ve both done so much. This, however… I have to do this for myself and my babies, okay?”

“How?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, I’ll figure it out. I mortgaged my father’s London house, so I still have that money. If I need more, I’ll get a loan or something.” I tried to play it down, but I was stressed.

She nodded, unconvinced. “Sam called again. That’s his fifteenth call in three days,” she sighed. “If it were up to me, I’d cut him off. But he’s calling for you, so… what do you want me to tell him?”

“I don’t know,” I bit my lip. “Do you really think he did that? That Gabriel really asked him to call me, and he didn’t because he thought he had a chance with me?”

Her theory aligned with his offer to step up, but to be this conniving? To deprive my children of a father and me of my husband because he was selfish? That seemed too wicked for the man I’d known all my life.

“I guess you should just ask him, see what he has to say.” Alice was furious with Sam, and if her theory was correct, furious wouldn’t begin to describe how I’d feel.

I dismissed those thoughts. “Yes. Just call him tomorrow. Visitation hours are over.”

She nodded, and I got up. I checked on the babies. Aurora was still asleep, but Alex seemed cranky. Luna was sitting beside them, watching dotingly. I smiled at her before taking Alex from his incubator and feeding him. He fell asleep, and after placing him back in his incubator (he’d be out of it today), I showered.

It was my first solo shower in three days. I didn’t expect my body to snap back to pre-pregnancy form, but the changes weren’t as drastic as I’d expected. Nothing major except saggy stomach skin with stretch marks. That might have been due to the yoga I’d practiced or the fact that I had a small waist and didn’t gain much weight; that’s why the restricted uterine growth occurred.

I was happy to shower without needing to put on a hospital gown afterward. I changed into loose, comfortable black sweats, ready to move rooms.

When I got out of the shower, no one was there.

“Alice?” I called loudly—dumb, since there weren’t many places to hide unless she was under the bed. She wouldn’t leave without telling me.

My eyebrows furrowed as I stepped out of the room. “Alice?” I called softly; my voice echoed in the hallway.

She didn’t answer, but loud chaos erupted outside.

Curious about the noise and feeling better about walking around, I walked down the hallway to the desk at the entrance to the private labor rooms.

“Sir, visitation hours are over. Please understand, I might lose my job if I let you in,” the receptionist pleaded.

There was real chaos—too many men in black for my liking.

I shook my head, wondering what had happened, but I knew better than to interfere.

As I turned to leave, I froze.

“Where is my wife?!”

A familiar voice. A voice I knew. A voice I loved.

My heart skipped a beat, and I whirled around so fast I got whiplash. As if on cue, Gabriel looked around in utter frustration, and when his eyes met mine, he seemed to stop breathing.