Page 278 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

“No,mine!”

“That’s not your flower basket; that’s your sister’s flower basket!”

“I wantsnacks!”

Three toddlers are currently committing coordinated terrorism in the bridal suite of a luxury lakefront hotel while Luci drinks champagne at ten in the morning and calls it “emotional support hydration.”

Honestly, this feels correct for my life.

“Why is there glitter on the baby?” Sophie asks from across the room.

All heads turn toward Ava.

Ava blinks innocently, covered in suspicious sparkles.

I stare. “How is that physically possible? We haven’t even opened the glitter.”

Sophie points silently toward Captain.

Captain, traitor that he is, trots proudly through the suite with a ribbon hanging from his mouth and what appears to be anentire emergency packet of decorative shimmer attached to his tail.

“Oh my goodness,” I whisper.

Luci doubles over laughing. “That dog is committed to drama.”

Captain barks happily and nearly takes out a bridesmaid bouquet.

“Absolutely not,” I tell him.

He ignores me immediately.

Motherhood has taught me many things. One of them is that nobody listens to me. Especially not the dog.

“Mommy!”

I turn just in time for my son—because yes, I emotionally adopted Oliver about three weeks after meeting him, and nobody can stop me—to skid into the room in a tiny tuxedo with a slightly crooked bow tie.

He’s seven now.

Seven.

Which feels fake because I swear yesterday he was calling me Sunshine and asking if all three babies would come out at once.

He stops dramatically in front of me and gasps. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

His eyes narrow suddenly. “Why are you crying already?”

“I’m not crying.”

“You are literally crying onto your face.”

Luci points at him proudly. “That’s my favorite child.”

“He’s not your child.”

“Spiritually, he is.”