The next few months pass in a blur, with the move to Australia and settling in at my sister’s home in Brisbane. I grow rounder and rounder, and all the more drained with every day that passes.

Before I realize how much time has passed, I’m nearing the dreaded eight-month mark. In normal pregnancies, nine months is when a mother really begins to worry. For triplets, it’s another story entirely. I could have them any day, at this rate.

Truthfully, I have a lot to show for my time in Australia. I managed to score in a lottery—which I hadn’t even realized I’d entered—receiving a lucky hundred-thousand dollars. My sister had been as bewildered as me, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Searching for a job hasn’t been easy, but with the cash payout from the lottery, I’ve been able to get by well enough. I still spend most of my days searching for a way to support my children in the long-term.

My thoughts still turn to Dillon more often than not, but I suppose that’s to be expected while carrying his children. I hope, at the very least, that they look more like me. I know the chance of three little Charlotte clones is unlikely, but a girl can dream. Having three babies as a constant reminder of him will be hard enough without seeing his beautiful blue eyes and face reflected back at me every day.

Deciding to try my luck finding a part-time job at the local mall, I jot down a note for Jenny explaining where I’ll be. I grab the keys to my new car, striding out of the house. It’s not a brand-new car; I couldn’t excuse spending such a large chunk of my lottery winnings on one thing. All the same, it gets me through town well enough.

Sliding into the driver’s seat with difficulty, I turn the ignition and turn the air conditioner on, full blast. I still haven’t entirely adjusted to the Brisbane heat, but it’s a work in progress. I know before long, I’ll spend less time cooped up in the house—especially if I manage to land a job.

When the mall comes into view, I breathe a weary sigh upon seeing the distance from the nearest parking place and the entrance. No expectant mother parking to be found here, unfortunately.

I wiggle out of the car, trekking towards the entrance of the mall. The sun beats down on my back, and sweat rolls down my neck. Before I can make it to the comfortable air conditioning, a dizzy spell washes over me. Stumbling to the side, I just manage to brace myself against a man who rushes to my side. I move to thank him, blinking slowly as I take in his features.

He looks strangely familiar, vaguely reminiscent of the doctor I’d seen for my ultrasound. He has an entirely different hairstyle, though. It wasn’t as if the doctor could sprout a full head of hair and decide to move all the way to Australia. The very thought of it is ridiculous. It must be the heat getting to me.

Regardless, seeing this deceptively familiar face makes me think of the life I’ve left behind. My crappy apartment wasn’t any big loss, but Dillon continues to haunt my every thought—be it waking or dreamful.

The news stories have finally died down, and the only news I see of the business mogul is his success in additional corporate takeovers. Well, that and the gossip magazine that mentioned his new mansion. People are speculating that he’s seeing someone, but I know that can’t be true. I hope so, anyway.

“Ma’am, are you all right? Can you hear me?” the man inquires gently. I blink blearily, taking the bottle of water he offers me. “You seem to be a bit dehydrated. It can’t be good for the babies,” he says.

I frown, taking another gulp of water.

“Thanks for the input, but…” I trail off, considering him strangely. “How do you know I’m having multiples?”

He looks panicked for the briefest of moments before constructing his expression into a calm and collected one.

“Just a lucky guess—looks like a bigger bump than usual.” He laughs awkwardly. “Do you need help getting home?” he asks gingerly, and my mind turns to the place that I consider my true home.

While I know he means the place I’m staying in presently, Australia will never feel like home for me. The only time I’ve ever felt at home was in Dillon’s arms.

Struck by the intensity of the sudden thought, I brush the man off and turn back to my car. A thousand thoughts are racing through my head, but the one that sticks out the most is the idea that I simply have to talk to Jenny. She’s managed to keep a level head throughout this; perhaps she can convince me of how ridiculous I’m being.

Getting back into the car, I turn on the air conditioner again and drive in the direction of our currently shared house.

Jenny is sitting in a lawn chair in the front yard, sipping a glass of water and flipping through the gossip magazine I’d brought home yesterday. When I get out of the car, she glances at me with an expression of concern.

“Charlie, are you all right? You look a bit red in the face,” she calls out, jumping to her feet and rushing towards me.

Giving her a guilty look, I reach out to take the magazine still gripped in her hand.

“I want to go back,” I admit softly.

She looks at me with an expression of confusion for a moment, but then realization seems to strike her. She looks briefly troubled, reaching out to take me by the hand.

“You’ve never been truly happy here, have you?” Jenny asks sadly.

Tears well up in my eyes as I try to think of an explanation that makes sense.

“I’m happy being with my family, but…this isn’t home, Jenny,” I say firmly.

She pauses to take a breath, gripping my hand and seeming to size me up for a long moment.

“Get out of here, kid. You’ve got a billionaire to win back,” she teases.

She pushes me back towards the car and I barely resist.

“I’ll ship your things over as soon as you have a place I can send them to. If you hurry, you’ll probably catch tonight’s red-eye,” she insists.

Surprised by how confident she seems, I glance over my shoulder at her.

“You’ve been expecting this,” I realize out loud.

Jenny sighs, shrugging her shoulders.

“I know you too well. Now, go on. Call me when you’re safe in Chicago,” she orders.

She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

Luck seems to be on my side for the time being, and I arrive just in time to score a ticket for a one-way flight to the United States. The flight attendant considers me rather strangely as I try to stuff myself into a seat—which is quite the task, considering just how obviously pregnant I am. She looks like she wants to ask whether or not I should be flying, but she appears to let it slide after a moment of thought.

As the cabin lights dim and I begin to drift off, my thoughts lie with the man who has stolen my heart. I can only hope he’ll be happy to see me.