I can feel Jesse’s hands tightening around mine, slowly constricting until I hiss a little with pain. He eases off immediately and slowly raises his head until his eyes find mine. They are wide green pools of shock and his cheeks are drenched. I shake my head mildly, like out of all the horror today had brought; it’s this bit that I must be dreaming about. We’re both just staring at each other, neither one of us knowing how to handle this news. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out. I go to say something, too, but no words materialise.
He stands up, sits back down again, and then re-stands, letting go of my hand. ‘Ava’s still pregnant? She’s… she’s… there’s… we’re…’
The doctor laughs a little ‘Yes, Ava is still pregnant, Mr Ward. Sit down, I’ll show you.’
Jesse turns stunned eyes to me briefly before directing them at the monitor of the machine. ‘I’ll stand, if you don’t mind. I need to feel my legs.’ He leans over the bed slightly, his eyes squinting. ‘I don’t see anything.’
It’s hard, but I pull my eyes away from my dazed husband and take a look myself, but all I can see is a black and white jumble of fuzz. The Doctor points at the screen. ‘There, look. Two perfect heartbeats.’
I frown to myself. Two heartbeats?
Jesse recoils and almost scowls at the doctor. ‘My baby has two hearts?’
The doctor laughs and turns amused eyes onto us. ‘No, Mr Ward. Each of your babies has one heart, and both are beating just fine.’
His mouth falls open and he starts walking backwards until the backs of his legs hit a chair and he collapses, his arse colliding loudly with the seat. ‘I’m sorry, say that again.’ he murmurs.
The Doctor chuckles. He finds this funny? I don’t. I’ve gone from having one baby, to having no baby, to having two babies? At least, that’s what I think he’s saying. The white coated man turns his body fully towards Jesse. ‘Mr Ward. Let me put this into plain English, if it will help.’
‘Please,’ Jesse whispers.
‘Your wife is expecting twins.’
‘Oh f**k,’ he gulps. He looks at me, but if he’s expecting any words, a facial expression, or anything, then he’s looking in vain. I’m still numb and truly shocked. Twins?
‘About six weeks, I would say.’
Yes, I’m stunned, but I know damn well that that’s impossible. I had a period five-ish weeks ago. I can’t be any more than four weeks. ‘I’m sorry, that can’t be right. I’ve had a period within that time and was on the pill previous to that.’ He doesn’t need to know that I missed a few here and there. It’s irrelevant now.
‘You had a period?’ he asks.
‘Yes!’
‘That’s not unusual.’ he flips casually. ‘Let me do some measurements.’
It’s not? I glance across at Jesse warily, seeing nothing but a lean physique frozen in place. He looks like he’s been fossilised. Is he so excited now? I don’t know, but he had better get used to it. This is revenge at its best. He didn’t bargain on this, and if I wasn’t so shell-shocked, then I think I’d be smug. I think I would laugh in his stunned, handsome face and tell him that he asked for this. He’s going to be a daddy, all right. My challenging, neurotic ex-playboy has a challenge on his hands, and it’s called a hormone frenzied wife and two screaming babies. I actually smile to myself as I lie back on the pillow and drift off to a fantasy land of chaos, a place where Jesse is pulling his hair out while I look on, smiling as our two toddlers run around his ankles, vying for his attention—a fantasy land that’s going to be all too real very soon. My Lord is going to have some stiff competition in the demanding department because one thing I wholeheartedly wish for most is that both of these babies have every irritating trait that he does. I hope they take after their father, and I hope they challenge him every day for the rest of his life. I look at his motionless frame and smile on the inside. I also hope they are just like him because he’s beautiful and bursting at the seams with pure intense love. Love for me, and love for our babies. I’ve just landed softly on Central Jesse Cloud Nine.
* * *
After being told to take it easy for a day or two and being checked for whiplash, the doctor printed off a picture and sent us on our way. We strolled out of the hospital hand in hand, with Jesse holding the little black and white scan picture gently at the corner. I guided him the whole way because he was too rapt by the photo to look where he was going. John picked us up and dropped us at Lusso, and laughed the hardest I’d ever seen when I told him the news that we’d just received. I told him because Jesse still wasn’t talking, not even to ask John if he caught the DBS. So I did. He lost the mother f**king thing.
We passed Casey, who looked a little shocked that he wasn’t growled at, and I directed Jesse into the elevator and just about coaxed the new code from him. He didn’t tell me it. He just absentmindedly punched in the four digits.
3,2,1,0
I fall apart on the inside, but maintain all seriousness on the outside.