by Anna Collins
I knew what she was talking about. I hated I was the reason why she was so devastated. I could tell she had had it rough, and it only made me want to hold her more and promise her I would never do such a thing again if she’d let me.
“So, let’s get back to our earlier topic. How did you two meet?” Jay asked, and Callie smiled.
“Well, he hired me as his assistant--,” and I cut her off.
“Actually, I hired her to ghost-edit my autobiography,” I said, revealing another truth on the table. I could tell Callie was expecting me to agree with her explanation judging by the look on her face and I winked at her. I was going to let the truth come out. “She was the only person I could trust with it, and I was very satisfied with the results,” I told him.
“Well, isn’t that something! It’s quite a small world, isn’t it?” Phoebe said, and I couldn’t help it anymore.
“How have you been, Callie?” I asked, looking straight at her. She bowed her head and tucked a piece of her hair back in her ear before nodding.
“I’m good. You?” she asked.
“I’m fine now that you’re here,” I said, and she bit her lip. I stood up from my chair and knelt in front of her, making her lean back against the cushions and the people both in and out of the set screamed and squealed at the scene I was creating. I couldn’t care less about it.
“Apollo, what are you doing?” she asked.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Callie. Every single moment without you had been a torment. I was wrong when I said I couldn’t be in a relationship with anybody. I was just too afraid of what I was feeling for you that I played off whatever we had like it was a game when it was really anything but,” I said before taking her hands in mine, rubbing her knuckles with my thumbs.
“I broke our agreement. You’re not my ghost editor anymore, but the actual one. I gave you all the credit for it,” I told her, making her gasp. “I’ve come clean with one of my secrets, and now I’m going to tell you the second one in front of everybody in here,” I took a deep breath.
“Apollo?” she asked, my name nothing but a whisper, yet it sounded like music to my ears.
“I love you, Calista Cohen. I think I’ve loved you the moment you opened the door of your apartment with no pants on, and I don’t think I’m ever going to stop feeling that way anytime soon. So I guess the question is…do you love me back?” I asked.
You could hear a pin drop in the studio as all of us anticipated her answer. I had almost lost hope when she suddenly placed her hand on my tie and pulled it slightly so that my mouth collided with hers.
The cheers and the howls from the audience as well as the crew made me smile through our kisses, and I pulled away to touch our foreheads together as I closed my eyes.
“Does that answer your question?” she whispered hotly, and I chuckled.
“More than words could say,” and before she could utter another word, I pulled her back into my arms for a kiss.
Epilogue
Callie
5 years later…
I glared at my reflection for what felt like the hundredth time, hating how my body looked like, and how frumpy this dress was. All my good clothes were scattered on the bed after I had tried them all on and ended up tossing them over there after numerous failed attempts to get them to fit.
I sighed once more as I placed my hands on my huge belly, using it as a makeshift desk the way I’d started to do so ever since I got to balance my coffee cup on top of it. I wasn’t a bombshell like Megan Fox or anything, but I missed my old body like crazy, and this stomach the size of a watermelon—nay, two watermelons- was making me lose hope that I would ever get it back.
“I look terrible,” I stated flatly, and I heard a deep chuckle first before two arms wrapped around my belly from behind, my back hitting the broad chest that had become my personal comforter for the last few months.
“You look exquisite,” he negated, and I rolled my eyes.
“I’m fat,” I said, and he chuckled once more.
“You’re not fat. You’re pregnant,” he corrected before planting a kiss on the back of my neck. “Stop stressing yourself out. It’s bad for them.”
“Quit nagging me. I feel horrible already,” I said, my irritation rising from 0 to 60 in a heartbeat. The damn hormones had turned me into a time bomb of emotions, and I knew I should be trying to control myself and not get mad at my husband, but I was pregnant, goddamn it, and it was his fault I was in this situation. Besides, even the doctor said I had a golden free pass to be as violent as I wanted to my husband, so I would release this endorphin-induced anger at him whenever I wanted.
Apollo’s eyebrows scrunched up in concern, and he turned me in his arms, looking at me worriedly, placing his hands on either side of my belly.
“What’s wrong? Are the babies alright?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes again.
“Stop it. The babies are fine. What I meant was I felt horrible about myself,” I clarified, and he sighed with relief, the tension flowing out of him immediately. I frowned at him. “This is serious! Look at this dress! It’s ugly, but it’s the only one that fits me now!” I cried.
“The dress is fine, Callie. I told you, you look beautiful no matter what you wear. You look more beautiful wearing nothing, actually,” he said suggestively, and I hit his face lightly with my hand.
“Pig,” I said, and I winced as I felt a sharp pain in my stomach as one of my babies kicked. I rubbed my belly silently telling them to calm down, and Apollo noticed my discomfort, sending him to ‘daddy mode’ immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I waved off his concern.
“It’s nothing, just one of your spawns treating me like a soccer ball again,” I told him, and he smiled proudly. Of course, the man would be proud, but I’d like to see him carry these guys and feel being kicked from the inside, see if that wiped the smirk off his face. I looked at all of my good clothes scattered around the bed sadly. “Do I really have to go to the wedding?” I asked.
“Well, you are the Maid of Honor, and Helen would murder you if you skipped her wedding,” Apollo replied. “No, scratch that. She would murder me, for not dragging your ass there,” he corrected himself.
“Can’t we use the ‘I’m pregnant’ card today? Please, please, please?” I begged.
“We could, but you sort of overused that card and it made Helen skeptical about it. I don’t think it’s going to work on her anymore,” he explained, and I groaned. I knew I shouldn’t have used my pregnancy as an excuse with her so many times. I really needed it today, and now it had come to bite me in the ass. Wonderful.
“Fine. Let’s go to the wedding now. The sooner we get there, the sooner I get to leave before my feet hurts,” I said, waddling towards the door.
“Honey?” Apollo called out, and I turned my head to look back at him.
“What?” I asked, and he looked at my feet.
“Your shoes don’t match,” he said, and I looked down.
Big mistake. I couldn’t see my feet. My belly was blocking the view.
I looked up at him again and felt tears start to gather in my eyes, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening.
I sniffled, and it spurred him into action.
“Hey Mom, you doing okay back there?” Ares asked, and I forced a smile on my face as I looked up at him, rubbing my belly again.
“Of course, sweetie. Don’t worry,” I said. He smiled back, but the worry in his eyes didn’t go away. I laughed internally.
Ares was in a strapping black suit that matched perfectly with his father’s, and I couldn’t help but notice how he looked more and more like Apollo each day. The six-year-old boy that had gotten lost in the mall was turning into a young man who was more mature and caring than other kids of his age. At eleven years old, he was now taller than me by a couple of inches, and I had a feeling he’d be able to surpass Perseus’ height once he reached eighteen.
God, I hoped he didn�
�t grow up to be a heartbreaker.
I felt another sharp pain inside me and willed myself to reminisce about everything that had happened in my life, starting from the moment I met Apollo all the way to the events that led me here. It was the only thought that made the pain go away. Like a movie in slow motion and the kids calmed down like they were watching it with me.
After Apollo and I had met each other again on the set of the morning show five years ago, after the kiss that fully cemented our relationship as a couple as well as revealing the relationship on national TV, everything in my life suddenly fell into place.
My book was re-released with my real name on it, and I moved into Apollo’s place a week after the show. A couple of months later, Apollo took me to a two-week trip around the world that culminated in him getting down on one knee, holding out a ring with the biggest rock I’d ever seen, on a starry night over a bridge in Venice, Italy.
I couldn’t forget the devastated look on his face when I told him no, and it almost killed me as I told him the reasons why.
I told him that we were doing everything backward and that although I knew in my heart that I loved him to the moon and back, knew that he felt the same way, I told him that we didn’t know much about each other yet. So I asked him to get back the moments we skipped out on and figure out everything there was to know about each other before jumping into the next step of our relationship. He didn’t like it at first, but being the rational man I knew and loved, he soon realized I was right and agreed that it was for the best.
It took him another two years to ask me to marry him again, and this time I was ready to say yes. And because he was in a hurry to turn me into Mrs. Apollo Irons, he wanted me off the market as soon as possible and unleashed the unholy power that was his sister onto our wedding planning.
It turned out to be a brilliant move on Apollo’s part, because not only was our wedding planned in record time, Helen had finally discovered her passion, and decided to open up her own business as a wedding and event organizer. Her experiences from attending a ton of parties and other soirees became her weapon in coming up with the most unique and ground-breaking occasions all over the country.
Another reason for Apollo insisting on a shotgun wedding was because he was worried about Drake. The moment he found out that Drake was the person who had helped me get away, and that we still kept in touch, Apollo was hell-bent on getting me away from him. I told him that there was nothing going on between me and Drake, but he wasn’t taking any chances. I’d be mad if I didn’t think it was so adorable.
To be honest, Drake and I did try to date after Apollo and I ‘broke up,' but it just wasn’t working. I was still so in love with Apollo that he had filled every space in my heart with his essence. There was simply no part of me left to give Drake, and he probably realized we were better off as friends.
I felt a sharp pain hit me again, and I chalked it up to another episode of Braxton-Hicks. The last time I thought the babies were coming, the doctor said that it was a false alarm and that it could happen from time to time. I was pretty sure this was just another one of those.
I felt Apollo’s eyes on me, and I smiled at him, not letting him see the pain.
Nothing was going to happen, right?
Apollo
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said, and I smiled as Helen was swept into the lucky guy’s arms and they practically made out in front of the man of the cloth and the hundreds of people who attended.
I clapped my hands for the newlyweds sand turned to look at my wife with a smile, thinking she was probably bawling in tears of joy until I saw the pain on her face and how she was clenching and unclenching her fists as she struggled to breathe.
Something was wrong.
I stood up and walked over to the bridesmaids’ seat where Callie was sitting, and she looked up at me with a grimace.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, and she bit her lip. “Callie, what is wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and I could swear the whole world could have stopped turning at that moment.
“What?”
“I thought it was Braxton-Hicks,” she said, and my eyes widened.
“Mommy, she’s peeing!” a little girl shouted, and everyone looked at the puddle of water at Callie’s feet.
“Callie, oh my God!” Helen screamed.
“You’re having the babies,” I said, and she nodded.
“Yeah, I think I am,” Callie said.
The next thing I knew, my feet gave out, and everything went black.
When I finally came to my senses, I realized I was in a taxi with my wife and Helen sitting next to me in the back seat while Perseus was sitting in the front.
I looked at my wife, and she glared at me while she huffed and puffed, following Helen’s breathing instruction.
“Honey, are you alright?” I asked, and she growled at me.
“I hate you,” she said furiously, and I couldn’t help but bow my head in shame. “I really fucking hate you.”
“Seriously, brother. Of all the things that could take you down and make you faint, I never thought it would be when your wife goes into labor,” Perseus said, and I glared at him.
“Did you have a nice nap while I was busy trying not to pop out your babies?” Callie asked.
“I’m sorry, my love,” I said, trying to placate her.
“Jesus Christ! Can’t you go any faster?!” Callie cried out, and the taxi driver literally jumped in his seat, a bead of sweat dripping at his temple.
“I-I’m going as f-f-fast as I can,” he said.
“Why the fuck did we take a taxi anyway? Where the hell is our car?” she asked.
“Sorry, that was my fault. I was in such a panic that I forgot I brought my car and just went out of the gardens and hailed a taxi,” Perseus answered, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief when she turned her maniacal eyes over to him instead.
“You’re an idiot,” she hissed, and my brother winced like her words physically hurt him. “If I give birth into this car, I swear to god, Perseus Irons, I will force you into a toaster!”
Helen was wise enough to keep her mouth shut, and Callie didn’t direct her anger out on her, leaving Perseus and me to function as her shock absorbers. I willed myself not to talk back and just continued to apologize and comfort her, assuring her that we’d get to the hospital soon and then we would finally get to see the new additions to our family. When we finally arrived at the hospital, I seated Callie into a wheelchair and led us to the reception desk where a stern-looking nurse barely spared me a glance before handing me a form. She opened her mouth and spoke in a bored, almost monotonous voice.
“Please fill this form out first, and we will find the appropri--,” I cut her off, my patience wearing thin.
“My wife’s in labor. Can you please just attend to her first before I fill this out?” I asked, managing to keep my politeness intact. She sighed and rolled her eyes at me like I was really annoying her.
“Sir, it is standard procedure of this hospital--,” she was cut off by a blood-curdling scream emitted by my wife, who grabbed on to Perseus arm and squeezed hard, making him yelp.
“FUCKING GET ME AN EPIDURAL OR I SWEAR TO GOD I AM HAVING THESE BABIES ON THE GODDAMN FLOOR!” she bellowed.
My wife’s threat of overexposure became the spell that set the nurses off, coming to her assistance in droves and then ushering her into one of the private rooms. Helen went alongside them, telling them how far apart Callie’s contractions were and how long it had already been since it started. I turned back to the forms, but Perseus waved me off, dragging the form from the counter to his side.
“Go and follow them. I’ll take care of this. I might need to check myself in for my arm, anyways,” he said, and I nodded at him in gratitude before running after them.
It turned out that Callie didn’t need to wait it out in a private room until she was ready to give birth. She had been having contractions since before the we
dding that by the time we got here, she was already a few centimeters dilated enough to start the delivery.
The hours passed by in the speed of light, it seemed I didn’t realize how long we were in the delivery room because of Callie. They couldn’t give her an anesthesia anymore because it was too late, so she spent her time in between pushing the baby out to yell at me.
“If you ever THINK that you are going to get that dick anywhere near me, YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!” she shrieked, before grabbing onto my hand and almost breaking my fingers. The doctor and nurses were chuckling over the spiteful things coming out of my wife’s mouth, but I didn’t find anything funny.
Another hour had passed, and I became a witness to the closest thing to a woman with a split personality. Callie had started to switch between crying hysterically while she apologized for her behavior,--
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry! I don’t mean anything I said! It just really hurts so badly, and I want it to stop,” she said, with matching tears, for example.
Or glaring at me while baring her teeth, filled with murderous intent.
“You will never get to have sex with me again, you asshole! If you come at me with that thing again, I swear to God, I will cut it in half, lengthwise!”
I had never feared more for my life than in these moments.
But I had to admit, all of these crazy outbursts from her were nothing compared to the joy I felt when my babies finally came out.
Callie had managed to see the both of them before slumping down on the bed, passed out from exhaustion. I couldn’t stop staring at them, though.
The nurses gave me one of them first, and I felt tears gather in my eyes as I looked at the small bundle of joy Callie and I had created, and if I thought that that would be the height of my euphoria, I was wrong, for it was actually the moment when the little girl in my arms opened her eyes and looked up at me with a smile.
