The media backlash from the story of our deal getting out was hard to deal with, and my public relations team is still struggling to tie up the loose ends. They still continue to encourage me to strike Charlotte from my mind and forget she exists.
I refused to do so then, and as she stands before me now, I find that there is no way I could have easily banished her from my thoughts. In the time she’s been gone, I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with my feelings. All the anger, the sense of betrayal, was nearly immediately wiped away when I received news that she had left the country.
There was a sense of certainty that I would never see her again. The sea of turmoil we seemed to toss each other back and forth across made me think that perhaps I was better off without her. Moreover, that she was better off without me. Seeing her now, however, quaking with barely restrained sobs barely a foot away from me, I know I can’t survive another day without her.
I rush forward, drawing her into my arms. She immediately buries her face in my shoulder, her tears soaking my shirt.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant…” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to hurt you. After all we’d been through, and you leaving me at the doctor’s office, I wanted to hurt you as badly as I’d been hurt. The pain was thousands of times worse than that I felt losing my job. I lost the man I love. I can’t say I never meant to hurt you, because I did,” she chokes out, tears continuing to spill freely from the intense green eyes I’ve missed so much.
Though I know the confession must be hurting her, I’m grateful that we’re finally being open with each other.
“I understand. For a time, I wanted to see you hurt as well. After you released our story to the media, I lost dozens of potential deals. Hell, I probably lost hundreds.” I chuckle, and she clings tighter to me. “We’ve treated each other rather badly, haven’t we? For two people who claim to love each other.”
She draws away, looking me square in the eye.
“I do love you, Dillon. I never stopped,” she breathes.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I press our lips together in a passionate, loving kiss. She presses against me, tangling her hands in my hair as our embrace intensifies. I draw away to catch my breath, and she stares at me so tenderly that my heart could break.
“I never stopped, either. That’s why I’ve been tracking you since my team managed to locate you in Australia,” I admit. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she reaches up to cup my chin. “The lottery was my doing, as was the doctor that I insisted keep an eye on you at any given time you were in public. Our doctor, the best in the business. I even paid for his hair implants,” I laugh.
“Oh my God. I can’t believe you. You really do care,” she says, pressing our lips together once more.
It’s all I can do to keep from ripping her clothes off, but I don’t know how comfortable Charlotte will be with that until after the babies come. The babies!
I jerk away, looking down at her stomach. I gently press my palm against the swollen bump. She shouldn’t have flown while she’s so close to her due date, but I can’t find it in me to be angry at her. She wanted to see me as badly as I wanted to see her, it seems.
However, as I’m considering her stomach, something strange occurs. There’s a large and rapidly growing wet spot on the crotch of her maternity pants. My eyes widen, and she meets my gaze with wide eyes of her own.
“Oh my God. I think my water just broke,” she gasps, bracing against me as to keep from collapsing.
I draw her into my arms, carrying her bridal style as I had when we first learned about the triplets.
“I knew it could happen at eight months, b-but it seems so early! The plane ride must have jostled them,” she cries out, tears streaming down her face.
The thought has occurred to me as well, but I simply press my lips to her cheek and rush out of the penthouse. The elevator is blessedly waiting on our floor, and I lurch inside, holding her close to my chest. She’s babbling somewhat deliriously, and I can tell she’s furious at herself.
“Charlotte, my love, calm down. They’re going to be fine. They’re going to be just perfect, like their mommy. We just need to get to the hospital, all right? Everything is fine,” I assure her.
Milo is some miles away, taking the day off, so I sprint towards my sports car while I hold my beloved tenderly in my grasp. Unlocking the door, I gently buckle her in before running to the other side. Jumping into the car, I rev the engine and speed out of the parking lot.
“I can’t…I can’t breathe,” she gasps, and I press the gas pedal down even harder. I reach over to grasp her hand, managing to keep us on the road as we make our way to the hospital. I could care less if a cop tries to stop us, all I care about is ensuring my family is okay. Fortunately, we zoom into the hospital parking lot without delay and I carry her the remaining distance.
A nurse helps her into a wheelchair once we’re inside, and as much as I don’t want to let her go, I have to see her taken care of.
“She’s having a hard time breathing,” I explain urgently, and the nurse looks at Charlotte intently. “She’s supposed to have a C-section; we were told at our last appointment together,” I continue frantically, racing after the nurse as she rushes down the halls.
“Crash cart! Get a crash cart ready!” she yells, and I feel as if my heart drops into my stomach.
I try my best to remain calm while Charlotte is in so much pain. My beautiful lover, my beautiful babies…please let me not lose them over my own stupidity. If I’d never pushed her away, she never would have left the country. If she hadn’t left the country, maybe this wouldn’t be happening.
“Dillon, hold my hand,” Charlotte calls out softly, and I race to keep up as the nurse wheels us into the maternity ward.
Another nurse wheels the crash cart beside the bed, and the two of them work quickly to get Charlotte settled in. Placing an oxygen mask on her, the first turns to look at me carefully.
“Are you the father?” she asks bluntly, and I nod my head fervently.
“Please, tell me she’s going to be okay,” I beg.
Tears roll down Charlotte’s cheeks, but she manages to even out her breathing with the help of the oxygen mask.
“The doctor will be here…well, here he is,” the nurse announces, gesturing to the familiar man.
I turn tearful eyes upon him, and he gestures his hands in a calming motion. He steps forward to consider Charlotte, tutting under his breath.
“When I you boarding the plane, I was worried, so I went ahead and tagged along. You have nothing to worry about; you’re simply going into labor a bit sooner than expected, so if you two could take a few breaths…” he says soothingly.
Charlotte sighs in relief, and I narrow my eyes at the doctor.
“You knew she could get hurt and you didn’t stop her?” I demand, but the doctor ignores me.
“Dillon, please!” Charlotte cries out, and I look over to see the nurses changing her into a hospital gown with the opening in the front. I rush to her side, gripping her hand once more. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave,” she whispers, gripping my hand as tightly as she is able.
“Never. Never again,” I vow. The nurses begin to set up the room for the cesarean section, and I tighten my grip on Charlotte’s hand, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.
“All right. Let’s begin then, shall we?” the doctor announces, beginning the procedure.
* * *
Some fifteen minutes later, and our family has grown by three. The nurses ensure each of the babies is healthy before placing them on Charlotte’s chest. I can’t help but gape at the tiny little beings, so small and fragile. I reach out to brush my fingertips over one of the babies’ heads, tears gathering in my eyes.
“You did it, my love. You did it,” I murmur softly, leaning in to kiss the woman I love.
“We did it,” she corrects wearily.
Once Charlotte’s been stitched up, the doctors and nurses step
away to give us a bit of privacy. The triplets already seem to vary in personality, one crying, one cooing, and the other simply watching in bleary-eyed silence. Charlotte watches them through tired, happy eyes, leaning down to kiss each one of them.
“So, about the new mansion…” she begins, looking at me with a certain mischievous gleam in her eye. I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders.
“Three rooms for three boys, and a playroom on the ground floor. I…had hoped you would come back,” I admit.
She hums thoughtfully for a moment, staring at our newborn triplets. Suddenly, her lips curl into a big smile and she begins to giggle softly. I tilt my head curiously, watching her with a smile of my own.
“What’s so funny, Charlotte?” I ask with a chuckle.
She wipes a tear from her eye, seeming to debate telling me. After a moment, however, she gives in.
“Oh, I was just thinking…we’re going to need to hire a maid.”
Epilogue
Charlotte
“And you’re sure the jet’s ready to leave tomorrow?” I ask gently, bouncing one of the boys on my hip as the others bicker amongst themselves.
Dillon nods, scooping the other two up and holding them a reasonable distance away from each other.
“Of course, my love. I know how much this trip means to you,” he soothes.
Since I’ve been living with Dillon and our children for just over two years, we’re more than overdue a visit to Australia to see my family. Jenny is warming up to the idea of having him as a billionaire brother-in-law, though with all the gifts Dillon has been sending her and my parents, who can blame her? As much as I’ve tried to tell him that he doesn’t have to buy my family’s approval, he’s simply too generous for his own good.
“Do you think the boys will behave themselves on the plane?” I ask, and Dillon looks at me for a long moment before we both burst into laughter. “Oh, I know, I know. Of course not,” I correct myself, setting Bradley on the floor.
He looks at me with those big, expressive eyes of his, and I’m beginning to wonder if Dillon was onto something when he mentioned loving my eyes. All three boys have shades of green as an eye color: Dillon Junior’s eyes are looking a bit more turquoise, Charles has eyes that look more forest green, and Bradley seems to have the exact emerald shade of my own.
They’re growing to be handsome little boys, though they’re real troublemakers when they set their young minds to it. Dillon jokes that he can’t imagine where they got that trait. After two years of co-parenting, he and I are closer than ever, and I have no doubt in my mind that he’s the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
“Have you finished packing your bags yet?” Dillon inquires, and I snort at the silliness of his question.
He tilts his head at me, placing Charles and Dillon Junior on the floor.
“You’re not going to be able to play once we’re on the plane, so better get all the roughhousing out of your system,” he instructs them, and the two grin before starting to wrestle. Bradley smiles as he watches for a moment, before joining in on the fun.
“Should we really be encouraging them?” I muse aloud, watching the three of them with a faint grin.
Dillon waves me off, stepping towards me to draw me into his arms. He presses a kiss to my cheek, trailing down along the side of my neck.
“Honey, not in front of the boys,” I murmur, blushing deeply.
My handsome billionaire smirks, pulling me away towards the other room.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he murmurs, lacing his fingers with mine as I glance anxiously towards the boys. “It’s important,” Dillon says, more urgently, giving my hand another tug.
“Oh, fine,” I sigh, following him into the den.
He shuts off the television which is blaring cartoons, gesturing for me to sit on the couch. I oblige him, more than vaguely curious as to what he has in mind. He sighs, beginning to pace back and forth in front of me. Something tells me that he’s troubled, though I have no idea by what.
“Dillon, are you all right?” I inquire softly.
He pauses, turning to face me with an intense expression.
“I don’t think your family is going to approve,” he says, his voice calm in spite of his words and posture.
His hands fidget at his sides, and I can tell that the situation is seriously bothering him.
“Approve of…what? Our relationship? Oh come on, you know they love you. Everything that happened is in the past,” I murmur, rising to my feet in an attempt to comfort him.
He holds a hand out to stop me, worrying his lip between his teeth.
“It’s just that, most parents expect their kids to, you know, get married and then have kids,” he hedges.
“My parents are well aware of where you and I stand. Nothing has changed in the two years we’ve been doing this together! We’re still co-parents even if we aren’t doing it the traditional way…” I trail off, averting my eyes.
Dillon sighs, dropping down to a knee to get on my level. I refuse to meet his gaze, the conversation hitting a nerve a bit more than I would like to admit.
“Listen, Charlotte,” he begins, and I glance towards him with the intent to tell him we don’t need to discuss this any further.
However, what I see stops me in my tracks. Dillon remains on one knee, a jewelry box in his hand as he meets my gaze with a warm smile. Certain he’s joking, I roll my eyes.
“What’s in there, a candy ring?”
He grins wider, popping the lid on the jewelry box. I glance towards him again, feeling my heart stop in my chest as I lay eyes upon the ring settled inside the box.
“I’m more partial to carats,” he says slyly. Then, his expression turns serious and he reaches out to caress my cheek.
“Charlotte, I had so much planned that I wanted to say. Some big romantic spiel, but, you know…ah. To hell with it. Marry me,” he murmurs.
My mouth falls open and it’s all I can do not to scream my answer. I hold out my hand, and he removes the ring from its box, holding it tantalizingly close to my finger.
“What do you say?” he whispers.
“Dillon…of course. Yes, yes, I’ll marry you!” I cry out, unable to stop the tears that prick at the corners of my eyes. I hear the sound of excited squealing from the living room, and the boys come tumbling in, each of them trying to get to Dillon and me first.
Overcome with emotion, I glance towards Dillon and smile broadly as he slips the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. It’s also the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m overcome with emotion, gathering the boys into my arms and planting a firm kiss on Dillon’s lips.
“My sister is going to freak out when she sees this,” I breathe, holding the ring out and allowing it to glimmer in the light.
“You’re telling me!” I hear a voice cry out.
I glance over, surprised to see Dillon’s tablet propped up on the table. I hadn’t noticed, but my parents and Jenny are watching me from the small screen, apparently having been in a video call the whole time. Jenny gives me a thumbs up, winking at me. My mother is in tears, and my father is maintaining his composure with difficulty.
Mom gets close to the table and makes a kissy face at us.
“Congratulations, honey. I can’t wait to see your ring in person! You boys behave on the flight, all right? Grammy loves you. All of you! That means you too, Silly Dilly,” she coos before the screen goes black.
The boys having lost interest, the three of them totter out of the room, and Dillon seizes the opportunity to pull me to him again. I grin deviously as I reach out to poke his cheek.
“Silly Dilly?” I tease, and he grows indignantly flushed. “More like Big Willy Dilly,” I grin, leaning in to press our lips together.
Suddenly, there’s a rustling sound from the tablet.
“Shit, how do I turn this thing off? Guys…Mom and Dad can hear you making out, and Dad doesn’t look happy. Abort mission,” Jenny shout
s, and Dillon jolts away from me.
I can hear my father repeating the words “Big Willy Dilly” in disbelief, and I can’t help but cackle as I reach towards the tablet to turn it off.
“Your father is going to kill me,” Dillon mutters ruefully.
I grin, moving to shift into his lap. He considers me with a raised brow, and I lean in to whisper into his ear.
“Well, if he’s going to kill you, shouldn’t we give him a good reason?” I murmur as I begin to unbutton his shirt.
He grins, capturing my lips and tangling a hand in my hair. The other slips under my shirt, where I’ve managed to reclaim my flat stomach. I’m a few stretch marks richer, but I’ve never felt more beautiful in my life.
Here in my billionaire fiancé’s arms, I’m certain that there could be nothing better than the life we have. The here and now. This very moment.
“Momma, I gotta go potty!” Bradley calls from the living room, and I draw away from Dillon with a wry smile.
“Raincheck, baby?” I ask, rising to my feet and walking into the living room.
Dillon trails after me, and while he looks exasperated, I know he wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything in the world.
And I’m glad, because little does he know that in just under eight months’ time, we’re going to be welcoming yet another little angel to our family.
The End
His Eternal Flame Page 80