The following Friday was Valentine’s Day, the very first Charlotte had celebrated with a boyfriend, in all her 28 years.

Never had she been given a chocolate heart; never had she received a dozen roses, nor thrown them away after they dried up in their vase. And for this reason, perhaps, she felt a great deal of excitement for this day—knowing it held the promise of professions of love, of cuddles, of long hours in bed.

But more than that, Charlotte had listed this day, February 14, as her last day at Ellis and Associates before giving birth. She walked into the office with a heavy heart, focusing on the walk through the glass doors, the ride up the elevator. She wondered when she would possibly gain enough energy to come back, after giving birth to three children.

She’d long before given up on heels, and she walked slowly into the office for the final time on black flats, her stomach protruding before her.

“It’s not long now!” one of the interns called, waving to her.

“And hopefully, nobody will remember this look,” Charlotte laughed. “It’s not one I want remembered.”

“Don’t listen to her,” another intern interrupted. “You look gorgeous. Your skin is glowing. Your hair has never looked better. She’s just anxious today because she has a pimple.”

Charlotte worked diligently throughout her last morning, scribbling notes to her stand-in attorney, Barbara, and packing up her supplies. She couldn’t live a single moment without her highlighters and trusty notebook, even if she was going to spend her life in a constant state of breastfeeding and sleeping. My, how things changed, she thought.

Although it was Valentine’s Day, Charlotte knew not to expect much flashiness from the evening; despite his wealth, Sean was nothing if not low-key. He didn’t enjoy flaunting his money—his idea of a glorious date involved going out into the woods and inhaling fresh air. And she loved this about him, truly. She couldn’t imagine dating a male version of Katrina, who flaunted her money with each breath.

Because it was her last day, Charlotte found herself with a million last-minute projects and proposals. She was on a constant trek to Lyle’s office, reminding him of things only she knew about or took care of, passing him folder after folder of information. She knew the man was growing older. She wanted the process to be automatic for him, and Sean had insisted she take a break from all things work related until at least a few weeks after labor.

At around six that evening, she received a text message from Sean. She fumbled for her phone, feeling it piled beneath folders and reminders. It was her natural state, her familiar, loveable chaos.

“I’m outside. Take your time, and come out when you’re ready. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Charlotte’s heart began to patter. She dropped her folders into a box, tossing everything into an unorganized pile. Her fingers shook with excitement. She wrote a note on the box, explaining that it was to be delivered to Sean’s penthouse, given that she couldn’t carry it. And she waddled into the main office, raising her arm and waving at the remaining workers.

The interns, the attorneys, and even Lyle quieted down, turning somber eyes toward her. Their respect was wholly hers.

“I just wanted to say. It’s been a unique pleasure working with you all,” she began. She felt a rock in her throat as she divulged this truth. “Every day, I’ve learned more about myself and about the law through you all. And I can’t wait to come back after I have these babies and really change some lives.” She rubbed her palms together, giving her colleagues an anxious, ecstatic grin.

And then, Lyle approached her, wrapping her in a mighty bear hug. The interns and other attorneys said goodbye with handshakes, with kisses. Charlotte felt overwhelmed with affection for them all, and she thanked them over and over again before dipping into the elevator and diving to the ground floor. She still felt their warmth on her arms. She still felt their smiles.

As the elevator doors opened, Sean appeared in the lobby, dressed in an immaculate suit that hugged his physique in all the right places. That familiar, 2006 grin swept across his face, and he brought his elbow forward.

Charlotte accepted it, taking stride beside him. “What’s gotten into you, Mister Romantic?” she grinned.

“Can’t a guy take his girlfriend out for Valentine’s?”

“I suppose you’re allowed,” she said. “If it’s really what you want.”

He looked at her steadily. “This is, without a doubt, one of the most important things I’ve wanted in my life. Trust me.”

Charlotte paused, unable to breathe. Something about his words caused her stomach to flip over. The moment was frozen in time, wholly formed in truth. He was her partner. He was her everything.

He tucked her into the passenger seat of the car, and began to drive through the city.

“So, where are we going, anyway?” Charlotte asked. “I suppose we can’t go to any of the usual romantic spots, since it won’t stop raining. No outdoor pier dinner. No drinks on the rooftop terrace.”

“I have something up my sleeve,” Sean said, squeezing her knee. “Don’t worry about it for a moment.”

The car revved through the rainy streets, splashing through puddles. Charlotte watched as Seattleites trudged down sidewalks, their heads lowered beneath umbrellas. One old man held an umbrella over his wife’s head, his left shoulder growing damper and damper with each passing moment. It was altruism; it was love.

Finally, Sean parked the Tesla just a few blocks from the Space Needle. Charlotte frowned, not used to being so close to the base. “What are we doing here—” she began, perplexed as they passed the various museums in the area.

But Sean placed his finger over his lips, shaking his head. “No questions,” he seemed to say. No commentary.

So Charlotte held her lips tight, clinging to his grasp as he led her toward the base of the Space Needle. The light was almost completely gone from the sky, and the Space Needle was a gleaming beacon above them—the Eiffel Tower of Seattle, the link the immense population all looked at before they went to sleep at night.

A maître d’ met them at the base of the landmark, greeting them both with a bow and a “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Charlotte blinked toward Sean as it dawned on her that they would be eating at the exclusive restaurant at the top of the tower—SkyCity. Her stomach growled with hunger, and she kept her smile inward, feeling the brevity of the moment as they stepped into the elevator.

The maître d’ didn’t speak as the elevator propelled to the top. Charlotte leaned toward the window, placing her fingers on the speckled pane, gazing out over the city as they left it below them. She felt like a god, looking down from so far above the city that was her heart and soul.

“Six hundred and five feet above Seattle,” the maître d’ told them. He sniffed, proud, as if he’d built the place himself. “Have you ever been up before?”

“Never,” Charlotte said, breathless. The elevator had gone on too far, it seemed. They were tiny speck-humans in outer space.

Finally, the elevator doors opened at SkyCity. The restaurant was lit with countless candles, and lined entirely with windows that slanted toward the perfect view of the water and the city.

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat. She brought her fingers to her mouth, trying not to gasp. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen,” she whispered. She turned her face toward Sean and kissed him deeply, feeling such pleasure within her. The view alone was perfect, and with the addition of the perfect man next to her, she was beside herself.

After a moment, Charlotte grew perplexed, realizing that the restaurant was completely empty. Only a single table was actually set, close to one of the windows.

Charlotte tilted her head in question. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Why are we the only ones here?” She assumed the place would be packed, brimming with tech gurus trying to please their girlfriends, lawyers trying to convince their wives they shouldn’t divorce them. But it was just the two of them, Charlotte and Sean, all the way up in the highest point of the city.

“I booked out the entire restaurant,” Sean said, shrugging. “It’s the least I could do.”

“The least?” Charlotte laughed, allowing the maître d’ to help her to her seat. “It’s one of the biggest gestures in the world.”

“I just didn’t want anything to distract us,” Sean said, eyeing her in a deeply loving way. Candlelight sparkled in his pupils. “You bring such happiness to my life, Charlotte.” He lifted his glass of wine, gesturing for her to lift her Italian soda. “In fact, I want to make a toast to you. To you and to the babies growing within you. And to our future together. Forever.”

Charlotte’s eyes caught on something in that moment, something that gave her pause. Sean had dressed in one of his fine suits, as he generally did for their dates. But this time, he wore a very special pair of cufflinks. They glinted in the soft light, causing her to set her drink back on the table.

She brought her hands to her soft cheeks, and felt tears pool in her eyes. “You’re wearing the very cufflinks you wore the day I first saw you,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

Sean placed his wine back on the table, putting off finishing his toast for later. He gestured with his cuff-linked arms, giving her that stunning grin. His five o’clock shadow highlighted his perfect, cut jawline, and his eyes were dark, eager. “I haven’t worn them since you brought the other one back to me.”

“I know. I assumed, perhaps, that you’d outgrown them,” Charlotte said. She hadn’t wanted to ask him about them, in case his response made her sad.

“That’s not it at all,” he replied. “I felt there was such a power to these cufflinks, I wanted to wear them on a special night, when everything finally came together for us. Call me superstitious, but I think they’re pretty lucky.”

Charlotte reminisced for a moment, surprised he hadn’t thought to wear them after they’d solved the Katrina and Evan problem, or when they had decided to move in together. But it had been many months since then. And special nights had bled into special nights, until, it seemed, their entire life was lit up. What made this one any different?

“You see, Charlotte,” Sean said. “I received these cufflinks from my father when I was eighteen years old, the day I was accepted into Yale. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he thought it would be better if I just went to work at his car manufacturing plant, like he had done when he was eighteen.

“But I was resistant. I had dreams and goals. And so, the fact that he’d gone out to purchase these cufflinks for me, even though he thought I was making a mistake, made them truly special to me. I grew to treasure them even more after he died.”

Charlotte had known Sean’s father had died, had cried for him when she’d learned. Her relationship with her father had only grown stronger in the years since her acceptance to Yale, and she hated that Sean hadn’t been able to experience the same joy.

“I wore those cufflinks that day of the speech because I assumed they’d bring me good luck. And, as it turns out, they did—in almost every single way.” He laughed. His cheeks shone in the candlelight as they lifted into a smile. “After the speech, I was approached by countless journalists, eager to talk to me about my idea. And when that cufflink popped off, someone who was bound to change my life in very different, very fulfilling ways, found it. And picked it up. And kept it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

Charlotte’s head was spinning. She remembered the countless nights she’d dreamed of this man, yearned for him to say her name. To be a part of her life. But she’d never understood just how.

“I think, since these cufflinks have been joined back together, everything in my life has felt exactly right. Maybe for the first time,” Sean continued. “It’s almost like you had to carry this cufflink with you, and I had to carry the other, until we were ready to meet one another. Until we had lived out the portions of our lives we were meant to on our own. Until we could unite for good.”

“That’s a really beautiful metaphor,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s almost too good to be true.”

“It really is,” Sean agreed. “It doesn’t make sense that we’re here. It doesn’t make sense that we saw each other and exchanged that single, life-changing smile. But we did. And now, we’ve created three babies together.” He eyed her stomach, and Charlotte swept her hand over it, as if alerting her babies to this special moment. Perhaps they could feel how fast her heart beat for their father. Perhaps they sensed the emotion this moment sizzled with.

Suddenly, Sean lifted himself from his seat. He bowed down and got on a single knee, looking up at her with hopeful, nervous eyes. He cleared his throat and dipped into his pocket, bringing out a single, black case.

“I know I can be difficult sometimes,” he told her. “I’m not perfect. And I’m certainly addicted to my work.”

“I am, too,” Charlotte whispered, feeling tears race down her cheek. She turned toward him, taking his hands into hers.

“That’s part of the reason I’m in love with you, Charlotte. You love to learn. You want to make the world a better place. And you think moments like that one you shared with me, almost eleven years ago now, are worth waiting for. I think that’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” she blubbered through tears that were coming faster and faster.

Sean opened the case, then. A gorgeous, vintage ring sat in the center, surrounded by satin, diamonds glinting in the candlelight.

Charlotte closed her eyes, unable to believe that this moment was really happening.

“Charlotte. Will you?” he asked her, his eyes centered upon her face.

Charlotte fought back tears, trying to memorize his expression through the water in her eyes. She lifted her left hand to him, and he slid the stunning ring over her finger. She brought it up to her eyes to gaze at it, studying the tiny jewels on the band.

“Where is this from?” she whispered.

“It was my grandmother’s,” Sean said. He reached toward her, then, kissing her wholly, bringing his arms around her neck. He massaged her sore back muscles before bringing his head back, looking at her like she was the only woman in the world. “She was a beautiful woman, smart as a whip. She ran away from home to go to college. And when her father came to drag her away from school, she just told him adamantly that she wasn’t going to go with him.”

“Just like that?” Charlotte asked, sniffling slightly.

“Her stories remind me of you,” Sean said. “A fighter. A woman who wouldn’t quit. I appreciate that emotion, that passion within you. I know that means you’ll fight for our marriage. I know you’ll fight for our children and whatever obstacles they come against, the same way I knew, all those months ago, that you were going to fight for me as my lawyer. I believe in you, Charlotte. And I believe in us.”

Joy swept through Charlotte. She felt her limbs begin to quake as Sean wrapped her in a hug and kiss once more. Every moment of her life had been leading to this one. She was at the highest point of the most beautiful city she’d ever seen, and she had Sean beside her—pledging to live out the remainder of his life with her.

But as she pulled back from his embrace, she suddenly felt something painful within her, deep in her uterus. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at Sean with panic. “Something’s wrong,” she gasped.

Sean matched her fright. He leaned down, his hands on her round belly. “Do you think you’re in labor?” he asked her. “It wouldn’t be a surprise for you to go in early.”

Charlotte began to cry, then. They were different tears than the one she’d had for her marriage proposal. These tears were full of fear for the future. These tears told her to hold on tight—because her life was about to change forever.

Another contraction swept through her, then. “They’re one after another, it seems,” Charlotte said. She searched for the maître d’, but she hadn’t seen him in minutes. “I need to go to the hospital.”

“Didn’t the doctor say not to be alarmed—”

“It’s different,” she interrupted, her eyes like a wild animal’s. “Let’s get on that elevator and postpone this dinner for another time.”

Sean lurched for the kitchen door, where he found the maître d’. “Can you call an ambulance?” he said, his voice strained.

Deep within her mind, Charlotte thought his panic was rather adorable. While she was struggling with the concept of becoming a mother in the next few hours, he was equally grappling with being a father. These were huge, meaningful times. “Complicated” didn’t even begin to cover it.

Quickly, the maître d’ called the ambulance and scrambled toward them, helping Charlotte from her chair. Another contraction came, hitting her like a truck. She cried out, and then eased into a long, smooth groan.

She shook her head, fighting through it. “I’m still not sure about this.”

“I thought you were asking her to marry you…?” the maître d’ asked Sean, his eyes searching.

“I did! She said yes. And then I suppose the shock of it—”

“Don’t talk about me, boys. I’m right here,” Charlotte interjected, her eyes moving from one man to the other as they led her toward the elevator. Far down the shaft, she heard the wailing of an ambulance, coming to take her to the hospital.

“She seems bigger than one baby, no?” the maître d’ asked. “Two?”

“Three,” Sean mouthed, his eyes wide.

“Bless your heart,” the maître d’ said.

As Charlotte leaned against the elevator walls, her arms wrapped around her stomach, she gave them a hard eye roll. But as another contraction tore through her, she found she didn’t have the attention to feel annoyed. Her mind was filled solely with panic and pain.

The ambulance waited for them as they exited the Space Needle elevator. The EMT workers helped Charlotte onto the gurney with chiseled arms. They towered over her, asking her questions. “When did they start? Are you dizzy?”

Charlotte could hardly muster the energy to answer. She poked Sean in the lower arm from her position on the gurney. “You tell them.”

Sean looked aghast, far less put-together than he’d been on that Yale stage, but he squeezed her hand and jumped into the back of the ambulance with the EMTs and his fiancée, explaining her history, that she was having triplets, and that she was only eight months pregnant.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked them.

“It’s only slightly premature,” the EMTs told him.

Charlotte fell into another contraction and could no longer hear. She squeezed Sean’s hand as hard as she could, twisting his fingers.

And yet, no matter how rough she was with him, he didn’t flinch. He was the other half of her cufflink. He was her future, her rock.