“Bet you didn’t expect to see me,” were the first words out of his mouth as I gaped at him.

After seeing Brock being taken away by the police, after giving excruciating birth to our triplets and holding their beautiful raw, red faces to my crying one, yes, the last person I had expected to see was Brock. And yet here he was, standing in front of my hospital bed and grinning at me and the three bundles of beauty I cradled in my arms.

“How…” I said, but he was already sweeping toward me with open arms.

“Can I?”

I handed him the three babies.

“Of course.”

He pressed the tiny sleeping things to his chest, a scared yet delighted look coming over his face.

“Oh man, oh man. Wow.”

We laughed, and he said, “They’re even more perfect than I could’ve imagined.”

His finger pressed against the boy’s forehead.

“So small and…ours.”

“Ours,” I repeated, beaming up at him.

He handed them back to me and then asked, “Want to know how I got here, or want to save it for later?”

I shrugged and patted the empty space on the bed beside me.

“I’ve got time.”

“Okay,” Brock said, going to the other side of the bed to sit down.

He rested his hand softly on my shoulder and smiled as he spoke.

“The police were hardly interested in me since I only ever stole from criminals. In fact, when they found out I had valuable information that would put Russell and his henchmen away for a nice long time, they had to stop themselves from outright shaking my hand at the end of the dealings. When I told them that my girlfriend was giving birth, they drove me here in the squad car, lights blaring and all.”

Smiling, I asked him, “Ooh, so I’m your girlfriend now huh?”

Grasping my hand, he said, “Well, if you’ll accept…”

Then, drawing it to his lips and kissing it, he said, “Alex, ‘girlfriend’ doesn’t even begin to cover what you are to me, but it’s a start. I may have missed our children’s birth, but you have my word that I’ll be there for every minute of their lives from now on.”

“Alex?!” a voice called across the hospital room as a red-haired figure raced toward me.

“I can’t believe you gave birth without me!” Tiffany yelled, Kyle and my mom trailing behind her.

Seeing Brock, she paused.

“Oh, you’re…”

“Brock Anderson, Alex’s boyfriend,” Brock said, holding out his hand with a smile.

Tiffany cocked her head at the proffered hand. Then, heaving a sigh, she clasped it warmly.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong,” she said to me. “You may have picked a winner.”

“Clearly I have some catching up to do,” Brock said with a grin, taking my hand now.

“You do, but there’s no need to worry,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We have the rest of our lives to catch up.”

* * *

The next few days passed in a happy blur: faces of family and friends, chocolate and balloons and teddy bears, and, of course, my darlings, my perfect little darlings. There was Noelle, named after her great-grandmother who’d had her same rosy cheeks well into her eighties; Sasha, named after Sasha Barrette, an artist Brock and I loved; and, finally, Ian, named after Brock’s father, who had died in combat when Brock was only twelve.

Having three babies was just how it sounded—noisy and demanding. It seemed like I was feeding them nonstop, too. When one was finished, another one would start its harried demands. And yet, it wasn’t as difficult as I had thought it would be. With Brock by my side, parked in the hospital chair, I was able to sleep a bit and eat. My days were still tiring, sure, but they were doable.

And when I saw my little triplets look up at me with their loving hazel eyes, there was nothing better. Seeing Brock with them, carrying them in his strong arms, patting their backs, kissing their tiny cheeks, made me care for him more every day.

Tiffany and my mother delighted in the babies too. Along with Brock, they wouldn’t leave my side, and every day they came armed with more gifts for the triplets.

One day, however, the day before I was to be discharged, Tiffany came with bad news.

“Combs, it’s your apartment.”

My face fell.

“Crap. Did I forget to pay?”

She shook her head.

“No. It’s not that. It’s just…” She fell silent and then glanced at Kyle, as if he could give her the words to tell me what she had to.

“What? What is it, Tiff? Tell me.”

So, with a sigh, she did.

“It’s Charlie. While you were gone, he broke into your place and, uh, accidentally set it on fire. He was smoking or something, and he’s being charged, but…”

Again, she fell silent and looked at Kyle.

“Tiff…”

“Well, all your stuff, it’s gone, Alex.”

Her words hit me like a slap in the face. My whole body drooped, and the babies, sensing turmoil, started wailing.

Mom scooped them up while Tiffany, her face red now, started talking a mile a minute. “But of course you and the triplets can stay with us. It’s no problem, no problem at all. I just thought you should know.”

I nodded mutely, unsure of what to say. Tiffany’s face was still strained.

“That’s not all, is it?” I asked quietly, and she shook her head.

“It’s your office building. They called a few days ago saying that your lease has expired and they want you out.”

Another slap of reality on the other side of my face.

“Okay” was all I could say with a dumb sort of nod.

Now Tiffany was in overdrive.

“But really, it’s fine! I mean, we have a room downstairs we don’t use. That can be your office or the nursery or both! We’ll figure this out, Combs. We always do!”

I nodded dumbly again, feeling too desolate to speak. I suddenly felt very, very tired. The babies were still screaming, so I held my arms out for them. Mom handed them to me, her face looking as sad and worried as I felt.

I cradled them to me, my little darlings whom I hardly even had a home for.

As I drifted off, the last thing I saw, in the corner of the room, was Brock. He was sitting quietly, his face intent. He had heard everything.

* * *

I awoke to a kiss on the cheek.

I opened my eyes to see Brock and an empty room.

As my mouth opened, Brock held a finger to my lips.

“Shhhh,” he said. “Your mom and Tiffany went for a quick walk with the babies.”

I nodded, searching his face.

“You’re probably wondering why I woke you up then.”

I nodded again, and he grinned.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” he said, going over to the table in the corner of the room.

He brought over a purple cake with the words “Will you live with me?” written on it in orange icing.

I stared at the funny-looking thing while an incredulous smile worked its way onto my face.

“Okay, so I did the icing myself,” Brock admitted with a shy smile, “but are you really going to leave me hanging here?”

It all seemed so incredible. Clearly, my face indicated as much, because, seizing my hands, Brock said, “I know what you’re thinking. It’s too much too fast; we hardly know each other. And you’re right, Alex, you’re right.”

I cocked my head at him. Wasn’t he supposed to be convincing me that this was a good idea?

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and continued. “But I still want to try. The little time we’ve spent together, it’s enough. I know all I need to know, which is that I care for you deeply and will do anything to make this work.”

Tears came to my eyes and rolled down before I could rub them away.

“Well?” Brock asked, and I nodded mutely.

Now tears were in his eyes too, and, as we clasped each other and kissed, Tiffany and my mom returned with the babies.

“She said yes, didn’t she?” Mom said, the delight audible in her voice. All three babies in her arms were smiling more than I’d ever seen them smile, as if they knew what had just happened.

“Knew she would,” Tiffany said, her red lips spread in a big grin. “Well, can we have the cake now?”

I responded by picking up the fork beside the cake, digging it in, and forking out a bite.

Everyone laughed, and in that shining moment, everything was perfect.