Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

The time when we decided no more children

All three girls finally fell asleep after all the excitement of us arriving back home.

We walk into our bedroom, barely able to move a limb from the long flight to then coming home and spending time with the girls. We’d brought home some gifts, including Australian chocolate, which was devoured too quickly. It explains why they’ve been bouncing off the walls all day.

Our day has been nonstop since we landed at six this morning, and even though I’m a seasoned traveler, I’m utterly exhausted right now.

A yawn escapes Charlotte as we climb into bed which then onsets one on my behalf.

“How do our kids have so much energy? Do you even remember being a kid and running around all day long?”

No,” I respond with a smile. “But I do remember having a little sister who gave the Energizer bunny a run for his money.”

Charlotte laughs softly. “Adriana had a lot of energy. She still does, actually. Speaking of which…”

I fix my pillow to get more comfortable. “Hmm…”

“This whole Nikki being pregnant thing—”

“Is not for you to get involved,” I interrupt, reminding her again.

“No, I meant, I don’t think I want any more kids.”

This isn’t the first time we’ve had this discussion, but as the girls got older and more demanding, the conversation became more frequent. It came up when Kate fell pregnant and again when one of Charlotte’s colleagues found out she was pregnant only a few weeks ago.

“You don’t think, or you know?” I question her sternly. “Big difference, Charlotte.”

She bows her head, then releases a weighted sigh.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte mumbles while toying with her wedding ring. “I mean, do you want more kids?”

We have a great life, and even with three girls, we’re managing to just balance it all. There have been so many sacrifices on both our parts, but if I’m honest, I miss my wife and spending time with her. With three kids, it’s getting harder to find time for us.

“I’m happy with our family right now, but I’m not sure I’m able to make permanent decisions. We’re still young.”

Charlotte simply nods, listening attentively. “A vasectomy is reversal if we change our minds later.”

Far be it for me to be a pussy, but the thought of having my balls operated on is less than appealing. Perhaps I should practice the art of pulling out. Who are you fucking kidding right now?

“I know you’re thinking you can just pull out,” she admonishes, then pats my hand with a mocking smile. “Baby, your pull-out game is your weakness. I mean, who would have thought the great Lex Edwards has a weakness?”

“Very funny.” My hand jabs the side of her rib, and she jumps from being ticklish. “Do we have to talk about this now? I’m tired.”

“Yes, because we have an appointment tomorrow afternoon.”

My head turns abruptly as my eyes widen in shock. She said what now? Suddenly, between my legs feels incredibly uncomfortable, like someone kicked me in the nuts.

“You booked an appointment for me to get the snip tomorrow?”

“No, I booked an appointment to consult with a specialist about getting the snip. You know how it all works.”

I cross my arms in defiance. “I know how it fucking works. I studied medicine.”

“I know you did…” she reaffirms before glancing my way again. “Look, it’s just a consult.”

There are many things in our marriage that I give in to. Charlotte not wanting nannies or full-time hired help. We compromised earlier in our marriage and have a cleaner once a week, plus a gardener who also takes care of the pool. The couple are married, and Charlotte met them through her work with a foundation. If I could have had my way, they would be employed full-time as well as a nanny to help with the girls.

But no, Charlotte insisted we raise these girls ourselves. If we needed a babysitter, we asked our family or friends. Most of the time, we swap with Adriana since she also runs her own business and has flexible schedules.

“You’ve ambushed me with this consult, and for all I know, they’ll wheel me into a room and cut into my balls without my permission,” I argue.

Charlotte huffs. “Now you’re being dramatic. Fine, have it your way. Don’t go. I’ll stay on the pill and screw my body up so you can have glorious orgasms and not have to pull out. How does that sound?”

There’s no reasoning with her because we’re too far into this argument. With a sudden headache striking me, I turn around with my back facing her, then turn off the lamp.

They say you shouldn’t go to bed angry.

But they weren’t married to Charlotte Edwards.

* * *

“Are you ready, Mr. Edwards?”

There have only been a few times in my life when nerves overcame me. This is one of those moments. A god damn knife is going to cut into my balls. Aside from the fear of pain, what if they damage something and I’m unable to come like a normal man? What if my dick is ruined, and I can’t get hard?

I’m dressed in a pair of sweats and tee, ready to head into the room to change into a gown. Charlotte is standing beside me, staring oddly with a pale face. All morning, she’s been looking unwell, but I narrowed it down to nerves on her end.

“Are you okay?” I ask, observing her face closer. Her eyes appear dull, and even her lips look pale.

She nods with pursed lips. “I’m fine … it’s just …”

I wait for her response, but she quickly presses her hand over her mouth and rushes to the trash can in the corner of the room. The violent sounds of her vomiting profusely worry me. I run over, rubbing her back, allowing her to empty her stomach.

The door opens as a nurse checks in on us.

“Can you please give us a minute?” I demand, pulling Charlotte’s hair away from her face. “My wife is unwell.”

“Of course, would you like some water, Mrs. Edwards?”

Charlotte shakes her head, keeping her words at bay.

“How about you bring some anyway?”

The nurse closes the door as Charlotte lifts her head while attempting to take deep breaths.

“You’ve looked pale all morning. Maybe it’s not nerves. It could be a stomach bug. The daycare always has something new spreading.”

Charlotte closes her eyes, then winces. Her hands move to her stomach as she clutches it, obviously in pain.

“Okay, look at me,” I beg of her, now worried. “Show me where it hurts?”

She drops her hand toward her stomach, and then she inches lower.

“Why don’t we have a doctor check you out? We are in a hospital,” I remind her.

“But you’re a doctor,” Charlotte croaks. “You check me out.”

I grab onto her arm, concerned she may faint. “Baby, I’m not equipped, and I’m worried. This vasectomy can wait. I won’t go in with you feeling this unwell.”

Beside the sink inside the room is a sick bag. I pass it to Charlotte as we exit the room toward the reception area. The nurse, which previously checked on us, notices us walking toward her.

“You don’t look so well, Mrs. Edwards,” she cross-examines from across the desk.

“I want my wife checked out immediately. If my surgery needs to be postponed, then so be it.”

“You can leave Mrs. Edwards with me, and I’ll have her checked out while you still have the surgery?”

I shake my head in disapproval. “No, sorry. I will not leave her in this state. I don’t care who I need to speak to, send them my way. My priority is my wife.”

The nurse nods with timid eyes. Great, now I’ve scared her. Thankfully, she scurries away and returns with a doctor a few minutes later.

“Mr. Edwards, I’m Dr. Rooney. If you follow me, I’ll examine your wife.”

We walk across the corridor to a small examination room. Dr. Rooney is a young doctor, much to my annoyance. Not that I’m one to ever observe someone’s looks, but the guy is attractive. He better not look at Charlotte in a compromising way.

“Mrs. Edwards, if you can, please lie down on the table and just point out where it hurts.”

Charlotte manages to lie on the table as I stand beside her. Dr. Rooney presses his hands softly where Charlotte indicates the pain was felt. With his stethoscope, he listens to her heartbeat. Moments later, he removes it from his ears.

“How long have you been presenting symptoms?”

“Just today,” Charlotte answers.

“Have you been exposed to anyone with similar symptoms?” he continues to question. “There are a number of viral infections circulating.”

“Uh… no. Our girls have all been well.”

He nods, then glances at me. “How many children do you have?”

“Three girls,” I answer for Charlotte.

“And you were here for a vasectomy, correct?”

My brows draw in. “Yes, what are you getting at?”

“Have you been using contraceptives?”

Charlotte clears her throat. “Yes, I was on the pill.”

“Was?” I blurt out.

“I stopped a week ago because I knew you were getting the snip.”

Dr. Rooney waits for us to finish talking.

“Stopping your pill a week ago won’t be the reason you’re unwell,” he informs us, then leans over and retrieves a sample cup from the shelf. “However, there are some things I’d like to rule out, so if you can please use the bathroom and provide me with a urine sample, we can go from there.”

My stomach sinks with a heaviness expanding all over my core. Charlotte doesn’t say a word, quietly sitting up and walking to the bathroom. She closes the door behind her as I bury my head in my hands.

Please don’t be the reason.

Thankfully, Dr. Rooney doesn’t talk to me, allowing me a moment to compose myself. Charlotte walks back into the room, avoiding my eyes, passing the sample to Dr. Rooney. He works in silence as we sit here quietly.

“Have there been other health concerns of late?” he asks, but then he glances over, his expression changing with a slight smile forming on his lips.

“No, nothing,” Charlotte replies.

“Well, Mrs. Edwards, you’re pregnant.”

I fucking knew it.

He lifts the pregnancy test, revealing the two positive lines. My face immediately falls, a mixture of shock and disbelief. Charlotte’s mouth falls open on the bed before she covers it and rushes back to the bathroom. The sounds echo rather unpleasantly, but I give her time until she emerges minutes later.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Dr. Rooney assures her. “How about I give you a few minutes to process the news, and I’ll return and do a sonogram? We can see how far along you are, then take action from there.”

The door closes behind Dr. Rooney, leaving me alone with Charlotte. I’m waiting on her to yell at me, blaming me for making her pregnant. She’ll call me selfish and greedy, unable to keep my dick in my pants.

I wait and wait, but it doesn’t come.

“I don’t know what to say.” She wraps her hands around her stomach with her head lowered, unable to look at me.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

Charlotte’s lips twist in sympathy. “We keep defying the odds. Maybe, though …”

“Maybe though, what?”

“This is my fault. Do you remember when I had that very stressful foster case? And I had to fly up to Seattle for three days? It was just before we went to Australia.”

“Yes… I remember…”

“Well, when packing my bag, Ava took my lipstick, and I got distracted. I went to her room where she was playing dress-ups and, of course, had broken my favorite lipstick. When I went back to the room, I was so annoyed and forgot to pack my pill,” she informs me with a remorseful expression.

I tilt my head in confusion. “Weren’t you gone for three nights?”

“Yes, but obviously, that’s all it took.”

My eyes close in frustration as my hands clench into fists. “Jesus fucking Christ, Charlotte. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I forgot!” she yells in exasperation.

There’s a gentle knock on the door before Dr. Rooney walks in. He quickly prepares the machine, followed by spreading the gel across Charlotte’s abdomen.

“Now, it may be too early to see anything. Also, your bladder may not be full. However, let’s see what we can find.”

My eyes focus on the screen, waiting for him to get the right angle. The image on the screen moves, but then I see the small-shaped image the size of a little peanut. Warmth spreads across my chest, just like it has every single time we saw our girls for the first time.

Then, my gaze darts back to the screen, eyes widening as something else catches my attention. Suddenly, my mouth falls open as I continue to stare avidly with my breathing coming to a complete standstill.

“It’s twins.”