Page 103 of Glitterati Omega

“Winston’s mother is going to have a heyday,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Hm?”

He swiveled and met Quinn’s curious gaze. “We were visiting,” he explained. “She’s been a midwife for many years, and she said I was most definitely carrying twins.”

Quinn laughed. “Well, she was right! Bet she’ll be happy about that—she’s getting twice as many grandbabies.”

“Yes,” Rupert agreed, peering down at himself. He tilted his head back, groaning. “I’m going to be the size of a house!”

Quinn chuckled. “Well, that’s not really bad news—I mean, you kind of are a house? If you think about it. Or maybe like a two-bedroom apartment. A really cramped one. Or something. Hmm.”

Rupert glowered, even as they went on musing. Quinn had to help him up, which did not help the feeling of being an elephant. He sighed when he was able to sit down again.

“Dr. Warwick will be in shortly,” Quinn said, then left him alone in the exam room. He rubbed his belly absently, then fished in his purse to find his mobile.

Ur mother was righthe texted Winston.

No reply. Well, that about figured. Winston was likely at work. Rupert couldn’t imagine what his desk must look like after nearly a month away.Twins, he added, then fretted at his lip.

Morgan breezed in a second later, almost slamming the door shut. “Holy shit,” they said when they turned around.

“Thanks,” Rupert sniffed.

“Well,” Morgan said. “I didn’t see you last time, and Quinn just told me we screwed up with the implantation, so now you’re getting the two-for-one deal.”

“Ugh,” Rupert said, which effectively summed up how he felt about that. “I suppose that’s a good thing, then?” He waved a hand. “I can get the two-for-one, then never have to go through this again, and get all those nasty little organs that are trying to kill me taken out.”

“Er,” Morgan said, sitting down, “maybe. I think we need to focus on getting you through this first.”

Rupert huffed, crossing his arms. Morgan clicked through a few screens on the computer. “So, everything looks good rightnow,” they said, clasping their hands. “Fundal height is right out the window—makes sense, that’s pretty much impossible with twin pregnancies. Heartbeats are strong—they’re moving around a bit?”

“More than a bit,” Rupert grumbled.

Morgan nodded. “Development looks normal—uh, little bit hard to tell the sex of either of them, because they’re sort of …”

“That’s fine. I’m fairly certain we decided we didn’t want to know before birth.”

Morgan nodded. “Okay, cool. Your blood pressure is up a bit—not totally surprising, but we’ll want to watch that. We’re gonna do the test for blood sugar, just check for gestational diabetes …” They trailed off, clicking through again. “You’re twenty-four weeks and up almost thirty pounds, Roo.”

He quirked a brow. “Which is …?”

Morgan looked at him, then grumbled and fished out their phone. “Like, almost fifteen kilos.”

“Oh.” Rupert flushed. “Is that … is that bad?”

Morgan made a face. “Not terrible with twins, no, but you’re gonna wanna watch that.”

“How much do I need to watch it?” he asked. “I … um. I was in treatment … when I was in my teens.” He’d never been formally diagnosed and he’d never landed himself in the hospital, but he did have a tendency toward extremes. Charli and Moose tried their best to keep him on the straight and narrow, catch him before he went off the rails.

“Fuck,” Morgan spat, then colored up to their ears. “I mean … no, I mean that. You gotta say things, Roo. There is an entirely different protocol for eating disorders.”

“I mean, it’s not a formal diagnosis. I just—”

“It’s a sore spot for you, and yakking about your weight isprobablynot helping, now is it?” They shook their head. “That kind of stuff can trigger a relapse easy, especially during a pregnancy, because your body’s changing so much anyway.”

Rupert shifted uneasily. “Well,” he said.

Morgan clacked on the keyboard. They sighed. “Well, now I know, so we can invoke that protocol. No more talking about your weight.”