Extended Epilogue

My beautiful new bride is currently breaking my hand, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not that I would ever say it to her, but she had this coming. If she had just married us over a year ago when we proposed, she wouldn’t have her feet in stirrups, her flowy white wedding dress discarded on the other side of the delivery room.

We had an intimate wedding, just us three and an officiant. Since our government is a bunch of prudish, close-minded bitches, my angel was only allowed to legally marry one of us. Obviously, my brother and I handled it in the only way we knew how to. We bare knuckle boxed each other until there was only one winner, and I am proud to say that I am that winner.

Dominic said it didn’t really matter since we have the same last name and she loves us equally, but he said that to make himself feel better because it sure as fuck does matter.

Our ceremony itself was a commitment ceremony, though, where my angel promised and vowed to love both of us even in death. It was just our names that were on the actual legal paperwork. Paperwork that wasn’t in our officiant’s hands for longer than ten seconds before her water broke.

We’re having a little boy, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Though Dominic and I are nervous about what kind of fathers we will be, we know that my angel will be the most incredible mother so we will follow her lead.

After every test imaginable, it was proven that pinning down exactly whose baby is inside my angel is undeterminable. Because we are identical twins, our DNA is virtually identical, so all tests came back inconclusive. She was actually happy about it, she was worried if we found out one of us wouldn’t love the baby enough, which is the stupidest thing to come out of her beautiful mouth. I would have loved the baby with all I am because, at the end of the day, he is half her, so he’s already half perfection. I like to think it was my sperm that eventually won, though. I mean, the last time we tried, Dominic was the one to finish and she wasn’t pregnant. We switched, and she is pregnant. Can’t tell me that’s a coincidence.

Dominic and I take jobs from time to time, not as many as we used to and only local. I refuse to spend nights away from my angel, and now that we are having a baby, it’s a hell fucking no. I don’t crave the bloodshed like I did, but I can’t deny it still fills me with an amount of thrill, a release, and I’m thankful my angel gets it. She’s even come on a job or two with me when we get a mark on a rapist or abusive piece of shit, much to Dominic’s chagrin. For the right reasons, she loves the kill, relishes in it almost as much as me, and it gets me hard every fucking time.

“Okay, okay. One more big push,” the doctor says between her legs.

Dominic is on her left and I’m on her right, we both hold her hands as we support her the best way we can as husbands. By shutting the fuck up and letting her do and say whatever she wants.

“I fucking hate you both. Vividly. This is the worst way to spend a wedding day everrrr,” she groans as she pushes until her face goes beet red.

She collapses against the bed at the same time a soft cry sounds out. It’s a sound that immediately has my heart melting, and when I set my eyes on that little guy, I know that I’m a goner.

“Oop,” the doctor says.

“Oop?” Dominic questions. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Sorry, I’m just the on-call midwife, and your chart said you were only having one baby.”

“We are!” my angel practically snaps at her.

She shakes her head as a nurse takes our son, clipping his cord quickly before taking him to the side of the room to weigh and measure him.

“I see the baby’s head. Okay, here comes another contraction. You ready, Blake?” she asks.

“What? No!” she shouts before sharing panicked looks between Dominic and me.

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’ve got this. Let’s meet our other baby.”

Her eyes clench tight as she nods, pushing again. This baby seems to somehow be able to come out in one push, and a louder, raspier cry comes from them.

“Another baby boy.” The doctor smiles before quickly clamping the cord and bringing both babies to my angel.

Tears begin pouring down her face as she looks at them, and I’m in awe. They’re so tiny. So perfect. I press a kiss to the side of her head as I whisper, “Thank you. Thank you for making them. They’re just like you.”

She cries harder as Dominic whispers something to her that I can’t quite hear, but I don’t mind. My eyes can’t stop going back to my kids. My sons. My whole family.