28. Jack

CHAPTER 28

JACK

I 'm sitting in a finance meeting when Taylor jogs past the boardroom. Instantly, the hair goes up on the back of my neck.

"…Looking ahead into the next quarter…"

I don't even hear the rest of what Owen is saying to me and the team. I'm out of my seat and in the hallway in an instant.

"Taylor," I call.

She stops at the elevators and whirls around.

"What's going on?" I ask.

She hesitates, and that's how I know that whatever is happening, it has to do with Leah.

And she doesn't want to tell me. Because I don't deserve to know. Because I've done more harm than good.

It's a knife to my fucking heart, an attack that I deserve.

"Please." I lick my lips. "Just tell me whether she's okay or not."

She searches my face. "Do you even care?"

Her question stings me, and my chest tightens with emotion. "Of course I care. She's the mother of my children. Whatever she's going through, I want to be there for her."

Her lips purse. "Really, Jack? Because you have a funny way of showing it. The last time she spoke with you, you slammed the door in her face."

I gulp. "Because she didn't want to see me anymore."

"And why is that?"

I sigh. Shit. We don't have time for this. Whatever is going on, it's obviously immediate.

"Look," I say, "I made a giant mistake. I should have been there for her. I— I want to be there for her. For the triplets. I want…"

"You want what?" She pushes the call button for the elevator, signaling that my time is running out.

"I want to be with her. I want to raise my kids."

Finally, I've said it. The truth is out there.

Where once before, the thought of voicing those desires felt terrifying, now it feels liberating.

Taylor stares at me, her eyes drilling into mine. She seems to contemplate my words for a long time.

"Okay," she finally says, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Okay?" I repeat.

She nods. "Okay. Let's go."

I nod. "Uh, where are we going?"

"To the hospital. She's in labor."

My heart stops. "What?"

"Yep." The elevator door opens, and she hurries on.

I follow after her, a flood of excitement and fear filling me. Leah is having the babies! She's about to become a mother.

And I'm about to become a father.

That is, if she'll have me.

At this point, nothing is guaranteed. I may have fucked things up so badly she'll never let me set eyes on those kids.

But I have to try. I can't live the rest of my life without knowing I at least gave redemption a shot.

As we make our way to the hospital, I can't shake the feeling of guilt that settles in my chest. I should have been there for Leah throughout her entire pregnancy, not just when it was convenient for me.

She must hate me so much, and I don't blame her.

When we arrive at the hospital, the receptionist gives us name tags and sends us to the labor and delivery ward. My palms are sweating and I can hear my own heartbeat.

In the hallway, Taylor steps in front of me. "You should wait here."

I want to argue, but she's right. Leah isn't expecting me, and I can't just go barging into her hospital room.

"Okay," I say, hard as it is. "Will you tell her I'm here?"

"Of course." She hurries away without another word, going into Leah's room and leaving me alone.

A couple nurses walk by, then a family with balloons. I'm the only one who's alone — a curse of my own making.

Finding a chair, I take a seat and let my head drop forward. The minutes tick by, slow and agonizing.

"Mr. Leadsom."

I look up and see a nurse.

She smiles at me. "Leah would like you to come in. It's almost time."

I scramble to my feet and follow the nurse into Leah's hospital room. She's propped up on pillows, beads of sweat dotting her forehead as she breathes through contractions. Taylor is right next to her, holding her hand.

Our eyes lock across the room. There's so much I could say, but only one thing feels right.

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes soften, and it's like the walls I built up between us come crumbling down. Rushing to her bed, I kneel and take her hand in mine.

"I'm so sorry." I kiss her knuckles. "I was an idiot. I should have been by your side every day."

Tears fill her eyes. "Why now?"

"I had to hit rock bottom to pull my head out of my ass." I push hair away from her forehead. "Life without you is hell."

She winces and closes her eyes.

"Maybe you should talk about this later," Taylor suggests. "Breathe, Leah. Nice and slow."

Nurses and a doctor bustle around us, and Leah groans low and deep. Apparently, that C-section isn't happening. The babies are coming now.

Leah's grip on my hand is like a vise, but I don't care. I can feel her pain, but I can also feel her strength.

"You're doing great," I encourage her, stroking her hair back as she pushes.

Animalistic sounds come from her mouth, and it's like she's channeling all the energy of the universe.

"Here comes the first baby," the doctor announces.

Leah bears down and pushes hard, and then, like a miracle, there's a cry. The doctor holds up a little pink baby.

"It's a girl," she announces.

All of a sudden, my face is wet. In the blink of an eye, I'm crying.

Leah reaches for the baby, and they place her on her chest.

"Two more to go!" Taylor cries out.

The next two triplets come much faster. A boy, and then a second boy.

I can't believe it: three babies. Three little miracles in this room with us.

Leah has tears in her eyes too, and we just stare at each other in wonder as the doctors and nurses rush around us.

"Three healthy babies," the doctor says, beaming. "Congratulations. You've got your hands full now."

As they clean up the babies and swaddle them, I can't help but feel like everything is finally okay. Like all of the pain and heartache of the last few months was leading up to this moment, when I would hold my children in my arms and know that it was all worth it.

"That was amazing." I hold onto the side of the hospital bed, not trusting my knees to work. I'm still crying, crying like I've never cried in my whole life.

Leah looks up at me, and her smile is so radiant that it takes my breath away. I can't believe how much I've missed her.

Without a doubt, I'm exactly where I need to be.

I know I have a lot of apologizing to do, a lot to fix, but I'll work on that for the rest of my life if I need to. I've finally found something worth holding on to, something worth fighting for — my family.