by KIKI MALONE
“Are you ready, Carter?” the minister asks.
“Yes, sir, I am,” I answer him.
I look out at the reception hall we’ve booked for this occasion. I would have liked to have been married in a church, but Maggie didn’t want that. We’re getting married in the same place as our reception. I guess it’ll be easier to sneak off with her after our vows and hopefully get a quickie in before the actual party starts. Again, there I go with dirty thoughts. That’s what happens when you’ve been waiting to have sex with your soon to be wife.
There aren’t too many guests here for the actual ceremony as our family is scarce. Maggie and I both are only children and I lost my parents long ago. Maggie doesn’t speak to her parents, so she refused to even tell them we were getting married. We have less than fifty people in attendance for the ceremony and will have about one hundred and fifty for the reception.
The entrance music starts as my eyes immediately go to the door that Maggie will be walking through.
I’m in awe of her beauty as she walks down the aisle in front of all of our family and friends. She’s breathtakingly beautiful.
Her gown is a perfect princess gown, tight on the top and flaring out at the waist. The top, a pure perfect white, gradually turning pink until it is a full pink at the bottom. The most beautiful ombre dress I have ever seen, adorning her perfect body. Her beautiful blonde hair is curled to perfection and cascades beautifully over her shoulders and down her back. Her makeup subdued, barely there, giving her natural beauty the chance to shine. I can’t believe in just a few moments, this beauty is going to be my wife.
The minister starts his practiced spiel on matrimony and I phase out most of what he has to say. I have no interest in this part. I just want to get to the part where he pronounces us husband and wife. When I’ll finally get to kiss my bride.
“No,” I suddenly hear and have to shake my head to clear it.
“Excuse me?” the minister asks.
“I said no,” Maggie states and looks me in the eye. “I’m not marrying him. I don’t want this. I’m leaving.” She gives me one last look that conveys she’s not even sorry and quickly walks away.
No? She fucking said no?
I spent tens of thousands of dollars making this wedding happen exactly the way she wanted it. The special flowers she wanted flown in, the custom wedding dress, this expensive venue that cost me so much more for booking on short notice. All for her to make a fool out of me and say no. I did everything she asked of me, making all of her dreams come true, giving her everything she asked for to make this day perfect. Yes, the money was a lot but most importantly, we’ve both been waiting for this day and what it means. At least, I thought we both were.
I rush behind her as she leaves the room, snatching her hand as she tries to run away from me.
“What the fuck, Maggie?” I ask as calmly as I can. “What do you mean no, you can’t marry me? Why now, why would you do this?”
“I changed my mind, Carter, I can’t have these babies,” she says. She points to her non-existent stomach. “Look at what they are doing to me already. I’m so fucking fat! I can’t do this. You’ll have to find someone else.”
I drop to my knees. This can’t happen. No, no, no.
“Maggie, please, baby, what are you saying?” I ask, hoping that she’s not saying what I think she is.
“What I’m saying, Carter,” she begins, “is that I will not have these babies you are so desperate for. I will not have these things ruining my body just so you can be happy. That’s what I’m saying, Carter.”
My world is being ripped from me. I’m running multiple scenarios through my head to try to figure out how to stop this. There’s got to be a way. I can’t let her take these babies from me. I’ve already started buying things for their nursery. We decided not to find out what we’re having so I’m doing the nursery all in neutral colors. They already own my heart, taking them away will shatter me.
Maggie doesn’t know this, but part of the construction to build the workout room was extending out the top floor to make a nursery that connects to the master bedroom. I wanted the nursery to be as close to our room as possible. It was going to be a surprise I gave her tonight as her wedding gift.
I’ve seen her rub her stomach, I thought she was starting to care for our babies. I’ve seen her holding her stomach in the mirror when she thinks I’m not looking. She looked like she loves our children. Have I been wrong this last month? Why is she suddenly changing her mind?
“Wait,” I say, standing back up and grabbing her wrist again before she walks away. “I’ll pay you. Ten thousand dollars a month,” I say before I even think it through. I know how much monetary things make her happy and at the moment, it’s all I have left to offer.
This makes her pause in her steps.
“Fifty,” she replies.
“Done,” I exclaim, without even a thought. If this is what it takes to make sure those babies are born, so be it. They are priceless to me. She could’ve said a million and I would have agreed.
“Fine,” she answers. Relief begins to course through me. “And I’m staying in the master bedroom, alone. The moment I have these things, you will pay for me to get my body back. I want to erase any evidence of having them. There won’t be a trace of a scar, or you’ll pay. Oh, and just to be clear, you will not ever touch me again. You will never have a piece of my body. You’ll sleep alone and don’t even think about dating or going and fucking someone else. If I even think that you may be with someone else, I’m out. You’ll never get these.” She waves to her stomach once again.
I don’t argue, I don’t even answer. I’m just relieved at this point that she agreed to have our children. As I watch her walk away, I drop to my knees and put my hands to the floor in front of me. Crying, sobbing. Letting it all out. If anyone thinks I’m a pussy because I’m sitting here crying, fuck them. My life was just torn apart. I know I should be happy that I will have my babies, but having it happen this way isn’t what I was expecting.
Today was supposed to be perfect and now it’s all turned to shit. I don’t understand how it all went wrong. I was going to have the life I always wanted, the family I always wanted. But now… now, it’s not going to be even close to how I imagined. I won’t have the loving wife; I won’t have the doting mother. I won’t have any of that. The only thing that I’ll have is my three babies. Three babies that will depend on me. Three children who will have anything and everything if I have any say to it. And, Lord, hear me now, they will have everything their hearts desire.
I don’t know how much time passes as I pray here on my hands and knees, but, next thing I know, Mikael is putting me in his car. I don’t even remember getting up off the floor, never mind being able to walk out of the reception hall and to his car.
I know I must’ve made a fool out of myself, but I don’t care. Mikael tells me he’s driving me home, but I can’t be there. I tell him to take me to his place instead. He doesn’t ask any questions and just heads to his house.
When we arrive at his place, he leaves me alone in the living room and I quickly tear off my tuxedo. This is my best friend, he won’t care that I’m practically naked in his living room. I’m going to burn this fucking thing. I don’t ever want to see it again.
“Here,” he says when he walks back into the room, throwing some sweats and a t-shirt at me. Guess he knew I was getting out of that suit, as he changed out of his as well.
“Thanks, man,” I answer then put on the clothes he gave me.
“We’re having bourbon tonight. Plan to get fucked up,” he says to me.
I don’t argue, I just sit my ass down on his leather sofa and wait for him to return.
When he comes back into the room, he has two bottles of top shelf bourbon in his hands and no glasses. I look at him questioningly.
“No pretenses with glasses, asshole,” he says as he shrugs. “We both know we’ll finish at least a bottle each before this night is over
, so get to chugging,” he finishes as he hands me a bottle.
“Wait, what about the guests at the wedding,” I ask, finally remembering that there were one hundred and fifty people at the hall waiting for us to get married.
“I took care of all that, man,” Mikael answers, his head shaking. “After what I witnessed her saying to you in the hall, I knew there was no way in hell I was letting you get up in front of everyone and try to explain what happened.”
I realize then that Mikael is more than a best friend, he’s the brother I never had. He’s right when he says I couldn’t have handled that on my own. He knows me too well.
“Where did I go wrong?” I ask as I take my first sip. That first one burns, but I know that soon I won’t feel anything. He knows that was a rhetorical question and doesn’t bother answering. We both sit here and stew. I know, being the brother he is, this is tearing him apart as much as it is me. He loved Maggie too, like a sister. He may have teased us about the babies, but he was also excited. He couldn’t wait to be the uncle that spoiled the three of them. He wasn’t wrong when he said we’d both drink at least a bottle tonight.
That was the last thing I remembered thinking before I woke up the next day with the sun shining in my eyes. I look around the room and notice two empty and two half-full bottles of bourbon. Mikael must’ve found his way to his bed last night because he’s nowhere in sight.
I get up, clean up the mess, and grab my wadded-up tux. I leave Mikael a note on the table that reads ‘Thank you for being the man you are,’ and leave. Time to go home and face the music.
CHAPTER FOUR
CARTER
THE BABIES ARE HERE!
6 MONTHS LATER
THE LAST SIX months have gone by with me both brokenhearted and happy at the same time.
Construction on both the workout room and the nursery has been completed. I was going to move the nursery after my fallout with Maggie at our wedding, but she insisted that the nursery stay right next to her. She took over the design and creation. She wouldn’t let me help her in any way. Because I made those promises to her on our wedding day, I let her take the reins. I have no idea what the nursery actually looks like, but it’s not important right now. What’s important is that soon I will have my children.
She’s grown to care for the children she’s carrying, at least that much has changed. She’s always talking to her belly. She’s not allowed me to talk to them or touch her stomach. I feel when these babies are born, they’re not even going to know who I am. All the experts say talking to the babies in the womb is what helps them recognize you and comfort them when they are born.
Maggie has reluctantly agreed to allow me to be in the birthing room when she delivers our babies. She tells me she is having them for me, after all. All of our doctor’s appointments have gone well. The doctor tells us the babies have grown perfectly and on schedule. It’s just a matter of time now before they arrive. We are lucky to have made it this far as a high percentage of triplets are delivered very early.
Sitting here in the guest room, I’m trying to focus on work. There’s so much to finish before the babies get here and I’m having trouble concentrating.
I’ve been working from home the last month because I want to be here for Maggie, whatever she needs. She’s having a hard time moving around these days with how large her stomach has grown. Sometimes, I truly feel bad about how much her belly has stretched. I can sympathize with her apprehension on having three babies at one time. In all this time, I never imagined she would expand this much.
Not that she’s not beautiful, hell, she’s the most stunning person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Those are my babies she’s carrying and nurturing. She’s done everything she’s supposed to do to ensure they grow healthy while she carries them. She kept up her workout routine until she was about six months along and the doctor warned her that her cervix would need to be sutured because she was doing too much and was afraid if she didn’t stop, she would give birth way too early and potentially lose them. At that point, I insisted that she stop and told Marco he would be paid, but he was not to return to the house to train Maggie again until six weeks after the babies were born. He wasn’t very happy, but he didn’t want to be fired and lose the huge paycheck he was receiving.
I kept my word to Maggie, as well. Every month I deposited fifty thousand dollars into her bank account. I don’t know what she’s doing with the money, nor do I care, but I can’t imagine she’s been using it. Everything she’s purchased, be for herself or the babies has been on my Centurion and Black Cards.
A lot of changes were happening at the office too. With me owning the accounting firm and the building it’s housed in, I have the ability to make any changes I deem necessary. I decided that I’m not going to have Maggie take care of our children alone. Instead, I created a daycare at work. I’ll be able to take the children to work with me a few days a week so that she’ll have time to rest and heal. I know she will want that plastic surgery for her stretch marks as soon as she can have it and will need a lot of time to recover from that as well. I don’t want her to have to worry about the babies while she recovers. It will be too much stress and after carrying them for the last nine months, and what her body will go through to deliver them, I could at least give her as much time as she needs to heal.
Suddenly, I hear a scream coming from upstairs. I jump to my feet and haul ass through the house and up the stairs. These aren’t Maggie’s normal screams, these are blood-curdling screams and I know something must be wrong. Even though I wouldn’t normally enter Maggie’s room without her permission, I barrel through the door to see what’s the matter.
Maggie is lying on her bed with her face contorted in pain. She’s writhing on her bed, screaming and crying.
“Get them out, oh my God, get them out!” she screams, tears running down her face.
She’s in labor, that much I can tell, due to all of the videos I’ve watched preparing for this day. I have to figure out a way to get her to calm down and get dressed. We need to get to the hospital; these babies are coming and we need to make sure they are delivered safely. We don’t need to risk any complications.
“Maggie, love, look at me,” I say as calmly as I can muster. Meanwhile, my heart is racing in my chest and I’m panicking a bit myself. But I can’t let her see that, I must stay calm for her sake. Right now, she actually needs me to be clear-headed and I’ll do whatever it takes.
“Carter,” she cries, “I don’t think I can do this. It hurts too much. How did I let you talk me into this? This is your fault. How, how did I let you talk me into this? I don’t know what I was thinking! I can’t have these demons! They’re tearing me up inside! What did you fucking do to me?”
Her words are cutting me up inside. She’s been so happy these past months. Why, when she’s in labor, is she back to thinking she should have never carried our children? I mean, the books, the experts and the doctors all warned that women can get a little exorcist-like when they are in labor, but this just cuts me deeply.
“Come on, Maggie,” I coax, “you don’t mean all that. It’s just the pain talking. Let’s get you up and dressed so we can get to the hospital. They’ll be able to give you something for the pain and you’ll be happy again.” At this point, I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or me. Not that I matter, she’s the one in pain and getting ready to give birth to our children.
“No,” she tells me and rolls over. “I’m not having them. They can stay in there and die for all I care. I’m not going to the hospital to have these things, you can’t make me.”
She doesn’t mean that, I know she doesn’t. There’s no way in hell she means what she’s saying. She’s just a little hysterical. That has to be it.
“Maggie, love,” I soothe, “those babies are coming whether you want them to or not. You don’t have a choice in the matter. Just the amount of pain you’re in tells me we need to get to the hospital right away. How long have you been having con
tractions? Have you timed them to see how far apart they are?”
“I’m not having contractions, Carter!” she yells. I’m confused a bit, but she continues on, “It’s not labor pains I’m having. This pain isn’t from contractions. This pain is something else. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not contractions.”
Now, I know I must get her to the hospital immediately. I grab my phone out of my pocket and dial nine-one-one. I don’t think I can get her down the stairs and into the car without help, so I call for an ambulance to come and transport her there.
“Hello, nine-one-one please tell me your emergency,” the operator answers.
“Hello, my wife is thirty-four pregnant with triplets and is experiencing a lot of abdominal pain. She says it’s not contractions, but she is screaming in pain. I need an ambulance right away,” I inform the operator as level-headed as possible. Inside, I’m not calm at all. If something is wrong with my babies, I’ll die inside, I just know it.
“Okay, sir, it looks like you have nine-one-one tracking enabled your phone, so I’ve been able to track your location through your phone carrier and have an ambulance on route. Please stay on the line until they get there. Can you tell me where she is experiencing the pain? I will get your obstetrician on the line to assist us,” she informs me. Wow, she is thorough, I’ll give her that.
“Maggie,” I say calmly, “I need you to tell me where the pain is, love. I have your doctor on the line and they are trying to help.”
“It’s all over,” Maggie cries. Tears are streaming down her face and suddenly, she lets out a scream that I swear pierces not only mine but also the operator’s ear drums.
