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Time, which has been advancing with agonizing slowness from the moment Izzie fell, seems to turn its dial to a brighter tomorrow. For the first time, I am hopeful, anticipating the ripples of change in our lives we are about to experience. Around that same time, the doctors announce that Izzie is safe to leave the hospital, that although she would have to be very careful, it is safe. She could come home. And I intend to prove to her, every single day, that home was with me. After saying it that first time, I’ve told quite a few people that I was soon to be a father, and I’m beginning to like the ring it has.
As well as finishing the nursery, I’ve finished the rest of the house too. Well, I’ve made it livable, Izzie and I will still need to do a few jobs but that’s ok.
We’ve already discussed that she will be coming to live with me. As much as Dave tries to insist she is welcome with them, Mel's words and Daves's actions still sting Izzie. I admire her ability to try to forgive them, I’d seen her after they kicked her out and it broke her. But she seems to be able to put on a smile and tell them it was alright.
Izzie has mostly forgiven me for what I said the night of the art class; all the visits to hospital gave us time to talk. She has explained that she still needs time to rebuild the trust, that I’m not going to turn around and end it with her again.
“I’m not going anywhere Iz, I promise,” I whisper to her as I stroke her hand. She nods and then agrees she will come back to live with me.
Now, as we’re headed out of the hospital I watch her eyes light up as she sees the outside world again. She’s been in there two months, the seasons have changed and it’s now turning to winter. The leaves have fallen and the air is colder than when she went in. She now is very obviously pregnant, wearing her bump well and looking brighter in the eyes than I’ve ever seen her. I’ve heard people talk about a pregnancy glow but I’d never seen one. I didn’t realize it was this enchanting.
I tap the steering wheel in both nervousness and excitement.
“I thought we were going to your apartment?” Izzie’s eyebrows crease together as she realizes we are heading to the sea.
“It’s a surprise,” I reply, trying to hide my smile.
Izzie laughs. “Alright. I don’t mind, I’m enjoying the drive.” She looks out the window again, eyes taking the world in.
I lead her to the house; she doesn’t say anything. I help her in - while she’s okay to leave the hospital she still needs some support getting around, much to her own dismay.
My heart throbs with anticipation as I lead Izzie through the long corridor to the room moonlighting as my garret of solace. The nursery. Hand in hand, we stumble through the heavy wooden door, which I fling open to reveal the fruits of my restless nights.
The room is bathed in soft, warm light, creating an atmosphere of tranquility and promise. Each of the three immaculate white cribs is placed strategically around the room, purposefully positioned in arm's reach of the plush rocking chair in the corner.
I turn to Izzie, her typically vibrant blue eyes welling up with unshed tears causing my heart to flutter a little faster. Her fingers explore the delicate fabric of the crib skirt. The silence between us is broken by a ragged inhale as she attempts to quell the swirl of emotions brewing within her.
"Zak... this... this is beautiful..." her voice trembles. I tighten my grip on her hand reassuringly. She glances back at me, her eyes flashing something I can only interpret as a silent affirmation of being there for one another.
"Izzie," I begin, my voice choked with emotion. “I know we've both made mistakes... had our misunderstandings. But since you've been in hospital and I've been working on this nursery... I've realized... we’re in this together, for real.” I look her straight in the eyes as I say this, wanting her to know I mean every word.
Her lips twist into an emotional smile, sweet enough to knock the wind out of me. "Zak... this is amazing, more than I could ever want. I love what you've done, I...I am in this too. For real," she affirms, her voice barely a whisper. I wipe away a solitary tear rolling down her cheek and my heart swells with boundless joy.
The radiance of her smile encourages me to do something which has been dancing around my conscience. And there and then, boldened, I ask. "Izzie, would you... would you consider moving in with me here? The house may be more suitable than the apartment... I mean, it's closer to the beach and there's enough space for everybody. Not to mention, there's plenty of fresh air for the kids to enjoy, ..." I let my voice trail off as I muster the courage to meet her gaze.
Her eyes sparkle as she lets out a laugh, wiping away another tear. "Of course, Zak! This... I love this place, I’ve loved it ever since I set eyes on it. I’d love to move in here with you."
Relief washes over me, my heart soars, echoing with Izzie’s laughter. The nursery, filled with love and future promises, serves as a reminder that we are in this together. We would weather this storm and come out stronger as a family. It is real, we are real and our journey is just beginning.
Izzie-Epilogue
Giving birth sucked. Like, seriously.
I look into the house seeing Dad, Mel and Zak with a baby each, cooing and rocking them to sleep. My tribe.
Our little piece of paradise - the beach house on Hoola Bay - provides a tranquil backdrop as I let my mind wander into the memories that had led us here. It is a peaceful evening; the silky murmur of the bay's waves softly knocking on the shore, the fading golden sun casting long shadows that dance along with my thoughts. As I sit with the hum of the triplets playing in the background, my mind wanders to their birth and the rollercoaster of emotions it had been.
From discovering I was pregnant, reeling with shock, joy, and a good dose of fear, to learning about the triplets, every moment had been engraved in my heart. But nothing compared to the day I went into labor.
I remembered the uncomfortable jabs of pain that had woken me at dawn, sharp and irrefutable. Zak's face as he'd fumbled with the car keys, his usually calm expression replaced with genuine worry.
The intense pain, coming in waves, ebbing and flowing like the ocean tide. Amidst it all, Zak was my lifeline, whether it was him holding my hand tight or whispering that I could do this, his words were a balm to my agony.
Hours later, each strained pant and tear leading to our triplets' first moments of life. The shrill cries puncturing the pain-filled room, transforming it into a symphony of joy. Violet, our quietest one, was first, her faint cries barely louder than a whisper. Then came the stubborn one, Max, his cries loud and fierce, testament to the fire within him even as a newborn. Finally, Lucy, her arrival almost serene, a beacon of tranquility after the storm.
The day was far from the immaculate scenes from a movie. It was messy, raw, and undeniably real. The pain was intense and relentless, but then they placed my babies one by one in my arms, and all the weariness evaporated, replaced with a love so powerful it brought tears to my eyes.
But my father's acceptance of Zak came not at my most vulnerable, when I was in hospital for days with Zak by my side, but when he set his eyes on his grandchildren nestled securely in Zak's embrace. The first time he saw Zak, cradling them, my father's hardened gaze softened, and a mysterious twinkle appeared.
