AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My son. Named for me and the French words for light and healthy and strong.
Tears fill my eyes at the sight of mother and son.
My protective instincts kick in. I follow his pediatrician—Dr. Constance Taylor recommended by Dr. Berger—as she carries my son off to the side to care for him. I split my gaze between her actions and Blair, who’s being comforted by Starr. I confirm my wife is fine, then turn my full attention to Lucien.
“How is he?” I ask as I watch possessively over the doctor’s shoulder while she tends to him.
She smiles at me and responds, “He’s in excellent health! All ten fingers and toes! He weighs 5.2 pounds. An acceptable size for a twin. Congratulations, Monsieur Montaigne!”
Relief washes over me. Then anxiety sweeps in when she places a freshly cleaned Lucien in my arms. When I look at her in a panic, Dr. Taylor smiles encouragingly.
I glance down at his red face. He may be tiny, but the weight of responsibility hits me in that moment. This is another of my babies. The fruit of my loins. The first to survive. I am his father. His safekeeping ranks as my utmost priority, along with his soon-to-be-born sister and their mother.
“Luc? What’s taking so long? Is he okay?”
Blair’s soft voice filled with concern calls me back to the operating room.
“He’s perfect, Mon Amour. See for yourself,” I respond as I stride over to her and place Lucien on her chest.
Blair’s face lights up with such love and joy when she stares at our son. Tears stream down her cheeks. Her fingers tentatively touch his soft jet-black hair, and his eyes open slowly.
Sapphire blue eyes and black hair. The Montaigne family traits continue.
Blair peers up at me and smiles.
“Papa,” she whispers.
I bury my face in her damp hair and cry.
“Fuuuck… You!!!”
Stage three begins…
Lucien sleeps in a warm hospital crib while his younger sister is being born. And his father is being cursed out by his mother.
I learned my lesson the last time. Instead of speaking sappy words, I go for the Alpha male route.
“Blair. You will push when Dr. Berger says and not a moment before. Do you understand—”
I didn’t even see it coming.
Blair slaps the shit out of me.
“Don’t you dare pull that dominant bullshit on me right now, Luc Montaigne!!!”
She bellows, eyes shooting blue fire.
Struck speechless, I can only stare at the wild woman before me. The tame and loving new mother of ten minutes ago disappears in a puff of smoke.
Yeah, fuck me…
Thirty minutes later, a fatigued, not ferocious, Blair rests in her suite’s bed with our twins in skin-to-skin contact against their mother's body as she breastfeeds them.
The sight is so poignant. I capture it with a few photos on my mobile. The clicking attracts her attention, and she lifts her weary gaze to mine.
“Hello, Mon Amour. I love you so much,” I breathe. “Do you need anything?”
Blair shakes her head and pats the bed beside her.
