The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless Book 13)

by Victoria Quinn

  I loved seeing her stomach every day.

  Fucking miracle.

  “Hey, babe.” She spoke to me from the kitchen. “How was your day?”

  “Fucking fantastic. What about yours?”

  “My feet are starting to swell, so I can’t wear my bitch pumps anymore.” She was snacking on the chips and salsa we now kept on hand, speaking between bites. “So now, I have to stick to flats. My mom said she wore heels with us until her last trimester. I was hoping to beat her score.” She came out of the kitchen and noticed the pink bag in my hand with tissue paper sticking out. “Ooh…what’s this?” She set the chips and salsa on the table then looked at it again, her hand on her stomach. “This better be for me, or this is just mean.”

  I smiled. “Yes, it is, mama.”

  She smiled at the nickname and opened the gift, revealing the white onesie. “Aww…” She’d only seen the back, but she already loved it. “Our baby’s first clothes…” She turned it around and opened it up so she could read the font. “My mom is a bad bitch.” She burst out laughing as she clutched the onesie to her chest. “Oh my god, this is so amazing. I love it.” She laughed as her eyes watered, hit with multiple emotions at once.

  “I saw it on the drive home and had to get it.”

  “Damn right. Aww…thank you.” She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. “I’m so happy that you got something.”

  I squeezed her to me, my chin resting on her head. “Yeah, it was nice.”

  “Then we should go shopping soon.” She pulled away. “Gotta get the baby’s room ready, buy diapers for days, all the clothes. And if it’s a girl, she’s gotta have an outfit for every occasion. Gotta make her debut, you know?”

  When I watched her light up like this, I was so happy. Having kids so soon wasn’t on her mind in the least when we got pregnant, but she never seemed unhappy about it. She was excited, ready to be a mom, not the least bit regretful that her career might be slowed for the foreseeable future.

  “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

  I released a loud laugh because that was all I could do in that moment. “Man, I don’t care. I’m just happy…that this happened.”

  She smiled. “Me too. We could find out at the doctor if you want.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe next time we go, but I really don’t care what we have. Anyway, I have something to tell you.”

  “I have something to tell you too.”

  “Well, ladies first.”

  She moved to the couch and took a seat before she patted the spot beside her.

  I was instantly on edge because this felt like bad news.

  “Everything’s fine,” she said quickly. “It’s good.”

  I sat beside her, my hand moving to her thigh.

  “I went to see a geneticist because I wanted to understand our situation. You know…just seeking answers.”

  I immediately sucked in a breath, just the topic triggering years of trauma.

  “And I think the reason why you and I are able to make this work is because…I have an extra allele in one of my chromosomes.”

  My hand stilled on her thigh, and I stared at her face, not quite understanding.

  “I have an extra chromosome…in the exact place where you’re missing one.”

  Uncontrollably, my breaths started to rise. My body flushed with heat. I felt disoriented, shocked, afraid, moved, everything. “Jesus…”

  Her eyes started to water.

  Mine did too. “Baby…” My hand moved to hers, and I gripped it tightly, like she was my lifeline, my everything. “You’re the only woman I can have children with.”

  “And you’re the only man I can have children with…”

  We ended up in bed, ordering takeout, our bodies wrapped around each other as we made love on and off, the sheets rumpled at the end of the bed, the two of us losing track of time and life. Our phones were abandoned in the other room, so we were off the map from the rest of the world.

  I didn’t believe in fate, meant-to-be, nothing like that.

  But being with her seemed bigger than a coincidence.

  I’d lost everything. But she gave it all back to me.

  I’d assumed that this would be our only child, our miracle baby, and we’d just have to be thankful that we had one child to love. But now, we could have more, as many as we wanted. “How many should we have?”

  She chuckled. “How about we just get through this one first?”

  “You’ve never thought about how many you’d like to have?”

  “Well, it was three. But maybe two.”

  “I want four.”

  “Four?” she asked incredulously. “Do you have any idea what that’s going to do to my body?”

  “Baby, you’ll be beautiful. You know I’ll be all up on you, no matter what.”

  She smirked. “Well, I’m sure that’s true…but that’s a lot of babies.”

  “Nothing you can’t handle.”

  “Do you actually want that many children, or do you just want to have as many as you possibly can?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it because I assumed I would never have children. I didn’t even think I’d find someone who would want to adopt with me. But now that I think about it—right here, right now, with you beside me—four would be fine.”

  “Yeah, let’s shoot for two and see how we feel then.”

  I chuckled. “Alright.” My hand went to her stomach, feeling that sexy bump.

  “So…you said you had something to tell me? We kinda got sidetracked.”

  “Oh yeah.” It seemed unimportant now. Really unimportant. “Now that our patients have all reached remission, word is getting out. Your dad’s contacts from the Nobel Prize Committee reached out to him and basically said we’re unofficially considered as candidates for medicine.”

  “Wow, that’s great. I just… I’m in disbelief right now. You must be feeling like a rock star.”

  “I don’t know how I feel. I never thought I could be so happy.”

  Her hand glided up my arm, affection in her eyes. “It’s crazy. You walked into my office, and we hated each other. Now we’re having a baby—”

  “Four babies.”

  “And getting married.”

  “And winning Nobel Prizes.”

  “You mean, you’re winning a Nobel Prize. But you’re right. Your victory is my victory.”

  “No. You’re literally winning a Nobel Prize.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed.

  “I asked your dad if we could include you as the third person on the paper.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the one who figured it out.”

  “I suggested the markers—”

  “You were my sounding board. You worked this out with me. If you hadn’t, I’m not sure when I would have made that conclusion…if ever.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ve contributed to your research the way you two have. You’ve been working on this for years. You’ve been in the lab, at the hospital, doing all the work—”

  “Which would have meant nothing if we didn’t understand this crucial piece. You saved lives, Daisy. Without you, over half of the patients in this set of trials would have passed away. You deserve this.”

  “I…” Overwhelmed, she didn’t know what to say.

  “It’s done.”

  “That’s not why I helped you—”

  “I know.”

  “That’s not why any doctor helps another doctor—”

  “I know, baby. But you found something we both missed. You deserve this.”

  When she reached six months, she started to get uncomfortable.

  Really uncomfortable.

  She was such a petite woman that it made it that much harder. She was in flats all the time, took naps when she came home from work, had a bigger appetite, and knocked out at night much earlier than she used to. Whenever her back hurt, I would rub it. I did whatever I could to make it easier for her.

&nbs
p; When we went to her parents’ place, we all shared hugs and embraces, and both of her parents felt her belly with their hands, so excited to be grandparents to another little person.

  I was forgotten most of the time, which was fine. I didn’t glow the way she did. I helped myself to the kitchen and got her some water and apple cider before I set it on the coffee table. Then I helped her out of her jacket before I hung it up by the door. It was still winter, and the cold made her handle the extra heat of her body a little better. There were some mini burritos on the table, so I grabbed those for her too.

  When I sat beside her, I handed her the plate of burritos.

  “Oh, thanks. I’m freakin’ starving.” She took a bite and scarfed it down, continuing her conversation with her parents.

  Her dad made eye contact with me, a slight smile on his lips. Then he gave me a thumbs-up.

  I smiled back, warmed by his approval.

  Dex took the seat beside me. “Congratulations on everything, man. Your research, your baby, your Nobel—”

  “We won’t know until next year. Our findings were made too late for this year.”

  “But come on,” he said. “You know you’ve got it in the bag.” He patted me on the back. “And then Daisy’s going to get one…like she wasn’t already the favorite. You’d think Derek or I would get this so Dad would like us more.”

  I chuckled because I knew he was only teasing.

  “So, you know what you’re having yet?”

  “We do.”

  “Really?” He smacked my arm. “Tell me.”

  I liked that he treated me like a brother, that both he and Derek accepted me with open arms, even though I’d knocked up his sister and dumped her at one point. There was no older-brother grilling. No interrogation. “I’ll let Daisy do the honors.”

  “Oh my god,” Cleo said. “You guys know?”

  Daisy nodded, still eating. “Yep.”

  Deacon sat on the armrest, his hand on his wife’s back. “Well, how long are you going to torture us?”

  She held up a finger and continued to eat her burrito.

  Dex got frustrated and smacked it on the floor.

  “Hey!” Daisy turned to him, immediately looking like a little girl about to punch her brother.

  Bear came over and snatched it up.

  “Bear!” Daisy threw her arms down. “I thought you had my back.”

  “Baby, I’ll get you more, alright?” I chuckled as I left to retrieve more.

  Daisy continued to fight with her brother. “I’m pregnant, you asshole.”

  “You can’t stop stuffing your mouth for two seconds to tell me if I’m having a niece or a nephew?” Dex asked incredulously. “You stuff your face all day. And you’re still hungry?”

  Daisy looked like she was going to punch him now.

  I got between them, holding the plate of burritos. “Here, baby. Ignore him.”

  “Punch him for me.”

  I turned to Dex and gave him a gentle fist bump in the shoulder. “Done.”

  “Please tell us.” Cleo clutched her hands together.

  Daisy took a bite of her burrito.

  Dex dropped his head into his chest and sighed.

  Daisy grinned as she chewed.

  Deacon looked amused, even when his kids didn’t get along.

  “Alright. I’m ready.” Daisy wiped her mouth with a napkin. “We’re having…”

  Every member of her family listened attentively, even the kids.

  Daisy moved her hands over her stomach. “A sweet and fierce…little girl.”

  “You’re going to be a great dad.” Deacon sat with me at the dining table, everyone else talking amongst themselves throughout the living room. He drank his beer and set it on the table.

  “Thanks. I learned everything I needed to know from mine.”

  He smiled. “Then he’s still here.”

  “Yeah.” I was blissfully happy to have a family with the woman I loved, but that did drop my mood sometimes, that my parents weren’t here for this. My sister too. I was on my own. But at least I’d be related to my daughter. I’d be connected to her in a way I wasn’t connected with anyone else.

  “Did Daisy tell you about the genetic test she got?” I wasn’t sure if she would keep that between us or share with her family. She seemed to share everything, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she had.

  He shook his head.

  “I guess she has an extra chromosome…where I’m missing one.”

  His expression changed, immediately turning into the focused physician at the lab and hospital. “That’s why this is possible for you…”

  I nodded. “Isn’t that crazy?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Because medicine only goes so far…until there’s God.”

  24

  Daisy

  “Oh my god, I look ridiculous.” I stood in my wedding dress on the pedestal in front of the mirror, and regardless of how beautiful the gown was, I looked huge. My stomach overshadowed the curves I once had, my cheeks were plump, my arms jiggled. I didn’t look anything like I imagined I’d look in a wedding dress.

  “You do not look ridiculous, honey.” Mom left the chair, her eyes on me in the reflection. “You look beautiful—”

  “Mom, come on. I look like a freakin’ cow.” I marched off of the pedestal and back into the changing room. “Forget it, I don’t want to get married. We’ll just wait until after she’s born, and I’ll get back into the shape…” I tried to shut the door, but Mom barred it.

  “Honey, he’s going to think you’re beautiful because you are—”

  “I look nothing like the woman he fell in love with.”

  “No, because you’re two people now. And trust me, he’s going to love that.”

  I sat on the bench and crossed my arms over my chest. “This just…isn’t how I imagined my big day, you know?”

  “What does your dad say?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mark your life in pencil…not pen.”

  “I was pregnant with Dex when your father and I got married.”

  I gave a shrug.

  “And I can say with complete confidence…he didn’t mind at all.”

  I gave a grimace. “Mom…”

  “Atlas is not going to see you like that. He loves you.”

  “This is a freakin’ Versace dress, and I look like shit.” I held up my hand to her. “Just go.”

  “The seamstress needs you to come out so she can make the adjustments—”

  “She’s not going to need to because I’ll just need a whole different dress at this point.”

  “Honey, I’ll give you a few minutes to calm down. Come out when you’re ready.” She shut the door and left me to my thoughts.

  There wasn’t a mirror inside the stall—thankfully.

  I’d always imagined my husband looking at me in disbelief when I walked down the aisle, like I was the most beautiful thing in the world, the hottest piece of ass he’d ever had. I didn’t want him to say I was beautiful. I wanted him to show me I was beautiful. But that wasn’t going to happen now…not when I was seven months pregnant and couldn’t even wear heels with my dress.

  When the baby came, she would be our whole world, and setting aside time just for us was probably unrealistic. Planning a wedding would be impossible. So, we had to do this now. But damn, I wished we didn’t have to.

  I simmered inside the stall, arms crossed over my chest, leaning against the wall, the beautiful gown surrounding me. My hormones were all over the place, so I knew that was making this so much worse. I wanted to burst into tears because I’d never felt so ugly in my life. And then I was going to get even bigger soon.

  A couple minutes later, my mom’s voice called out. “Honey, come out.”

  I continued to sit there, being a brat.

  “Honey.” Mom’s voice grew more forceful. “The sooner you do this, the sooner we can go eat.”

  “Because that’s all I care about…eating.”

>   “Daisy, that’s not how I meant it. Come on.”

  I pushed myself up and opened the door, knowing I had to get this shit over with.

  I stilled when I saw Atlas standing there.

  He was in jeans and a hoodie, fit as always, still working out every morning while I slept in. His eyes were on me, a jolt of surprise at my appearance. But then his eyes softened and turned intense at the same time, a look he’d never given before. He looked me over, looked at me the way I always wanted to be looked at.

  Mom and the seamstress were gone. It was just the two of us. I picked up the front of my dress and walked toward him.

  His hand immediately went to my stomach, and he came closer to me, his other hand cupping my face, looking at me like he’d never loved me more in his life. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me, and that was all that I needed.

  That was all I needed to feel beautiful again.

  It wasn’t quite what I imagined.

  Not a summer wedding on the beach in the Hamptons.

  But it was a late winter wonderland at the Four Seasons. There were white flowers everywhere, mixed with pinecones and a few feathers, glitter like ice, snowflakes. Just beautiful.

  It was nice having a mom with all the connections to make it exceptional.

  I sat in the chair in the bridal room, resting because it was getting harder to stand and walk. Instead of opting for a veil, I chose a diamond crown that Mom allowed me to borrow from Tiffany’s.

  Because my mom knew everybody.

  My girls were around me, making sure I had enough of the cheese platter and strawberries. They all had champagne before the party even began, and I had apple cider. It wasn’t what I'd pictured, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Mom sat beside me, her hand on mine. “Nervous?”

  I shook my head. “No. Is Atlas?”

  “Not at all. He’s been playing video games with your brothers.”

  I released a laugh because that wasn’t the least bit surprising.