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“Hey,” Drex says from behind, interrupting my thoughts. He presses a kiss to the top of my head before taking a seat beside me on the couch. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m just missing my mom. She was so excited to meet our baby and would’ve been ecstatic to find out that we were having two.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to my temple. “I wish I could’ve gotten to know her better, but she seemed like a wonderful person.”
My breath hitching and throat closing, I can only manage a nod. “I miss her so much.”
“There was a Kaleidian philosopher who – yes, we have those, don’t look at me like that –”
“Sorry,” I say and lower my raised eyebrow. Most of my experience with Kaleidians has led me to believe that they tend to be less interested in thinking about their place in the world and more interested in living and dying as warriors. But in the same way that you cannot assume that humans within a certain culture are the same, you cannot assume that of other species.
He snorts, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I know I don’t look like the philosophy type. But that’s not the point.”
Little Azel finishes his snack and burps, so Drex takes him, gently cradling him in his arms. “My point is that this great philosopher once said that ‘Grief is the pain of continuing love. It hurts because it’s real, so you can take comfort in that pain.’ Or something like that.”
“Thanks,” I say, leaning against him. It doesn’t make the grief any more bearable, but the fact that he’s here, Isa’s here, and my babies are here is enough. I’m not alone.
Soon, Azel falls back asleep. We lay him down and then head to the bedroom to get some sleep ourselves before they wake us again.
By the time I wake up, everyone else in the house is up and the smell of cooking food entices me to get out of bed. The sun is high in the sky, and Isa is playing with the babies while Drex makes breakfast.
“You could have woken me, you know,” I say with a yawn and a stretch. They could have, but I’m kind of glad they didn’t. My body is still recovering from pushing out two infants, and it wants to rest even when every other part of me demands that I should be more productive.
“Nah, you need your beauty sleep,” Isa says, blowing raspberries into Azel’s belly as he giggles. Isa lies on her back, kicking her legs in the air like she’s just discovered that they exist.
“I take offense to that,” Drex replies, plating the simple toast slathered with synthesized Guri fruit jam and a side of fried synth meat. Neither is as good as the real thing, but we all make do with what we have.
He sets the plate in front of me on the couch coffee table. “She happens to look beautiful no matter what.”
I roll my eyes. “You haven’t seen me after downing a whole bottle of Odex ale.”
Isa laughs. “Yeah, you were a mess.” She turns to Azel and starts speaking in a higher pitch. “Yes, she was. Yes, she was! Your mommy was a big old mess. Your Auntie Isa had to hose her down outside.”
Drex’s gaze darts between her and me, his eyebrows raised. “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not,” I reply as I take a bite of my toast. “The indiscretions of youth and all that.”
He shrugs. “Well, once things have stabilized, I guess we’ll have to go out and see how wild you can get.”
“Speaking of stabilizing,” I say. “Have you heard from Kyltic yet?”
With a sigh, Drex picks up Bianca, cradling her as he plops onto the couch. “Nothing yet. I know they’re gonna try to get all of us out, but things are so unstable now.”
“When have they not been?” Isa mutters. Azel begins to cry, and she squeezes his diaper. “Uh-oh, someone needs changing.” Before I can offer to do it, she gets to work.
With a sigh, I lean against Drex, letting Bianca take my finger in her chubby hand. She coos and flails it around. “I hope we hear something soon. The waiting is always the worst part.”
“I trust Kyltic,” Drex says. “He’s a good guy.”
“Didn’t he force you to leave us for dead?” Isa retorts, dropping the dirty diaper in the trash.
“He’s also the reason that I was able to come back,” Drex grits out. “So, it would be nice if you showed a little gratitude towards him.”
My husband and my best friend may have made peace but that doesn’t mean that the occasional argument doesn’t break out.
They’re too similar to one another. Both are headstrong and super protective, arguably overprotective, of those that they care about. Whenever there’s a disagreement about my safety or the safety of my babies, a fight breaks out.
For the past week, they’ve occasionally broken into little spats over stupid things like the temperature of the formula or the best way to put on diapers. A part of me is beginning to wonder if they both just enjoy the verbal sparring.
