by Amy Daws
“This is ridiculous,” my mom balks. “I operate on babies like you were everyday. I know how special you are.” Her smile falters slightly.
“Is that why you thought it was nifty that I got a tattoo at fifteen fucking years old? Is that why you never let me go anywhere by myself? Is that why I couldn’t attend a school dance without you hovering as a damn chaperone? And, why you lived near me for as long as you possibly could? Because, I was special?”
“Yes!” She smiles, “Exactly!”
“Why, Mom? Why am I special? Why am I worthy of being hovered over?” I exclaim, my voice rising with emotion.
“Reyna Miracle, you give birth to four babies and watch them die one by one and then tell me how you react, alright?” Her smile looks pained and wrong. Ill, even. “I’m a doctor! I knew the odds of you living or dying. Your existence blows science right out of the water. When you witness something like that you can’t help but become entrenched in your own emotions. Your understanding of reality shifts and forever changes you.”
“Don’t you see though, Mom?” I cry, resisting the urge to reach over and shake her. “That is what’s making it impossible for us to find our way back to each other!”
She shrugs her shoulders and looks at Miguel for help. “I don’t know what to say! I want to find a path to you, one way or another, but you have to clear one for me. I need you to let me in.”
“Well, I need you to be real with me, Mom. Dad’s dead. You’re all I got. I need you to stop thinking everything I do is perfect! I’m horrible! I’m a shitty person and I’ve been the shittiest to you most of my life!”
“I know!” she cries.
“Well, how the hell does that make you feel?” I ask sharply, taking the good doctor, Miguel’s, words out of his mouth.
“Angry! Confused! Sad, I guess!” she huffs loudly. “When you were a baby I got to hold you and hug you and love you. Then, as soon as you were big enough you squirmed out of my arms, and I’ve spent the rest of my life running to get you back!”
“Just tell me something real, Mom. Anything. I need to hear something imperfect from you to know that we even have a shot at finding peace.”
“I hate your tattoos. All of them,” she blurts. “Even the black roses. I think they are dark and twisty and look like something Marilyn Manson would have.” She covers her mouth in shock at her emotional outburst.
My jaw drops and before I know it, we’re both laughing and staring incredulously at each other. She pauses to wipe laughter tears from her eyes and I reach over and grab a tissue, handing it to her. I’ve never seen my mother laugh like this before. “That was definitely something real,” I laugh and look over to Miguel for approval.
He nods knowingly, “It’s a good start ladies. A good start.”
“You know we can sleep at your flat more often if you like,” I say, nudging my butt into Liam’s crotch as I pull my white duvet up over my ear in an attempt to get comfy enough to fall asleep.
“I know, but I like your place.” He drapes his arm lazily over my side. I relish in our standard sleeping position that we’ve perfected over the last six months. “And you work late still. I like waiting here in raptures for you to get home.”
I giggle softly. “For a dirty boy, you sure can be sappy sometimes,” I say, my voice dripping with mirth.
“I’ll show you dirty,” Liam growls against my rose-covered shoulder and yanks me back into his chest. His arms wrap around me and pinch both of my bare nipples.
“Ow!” I cry out excitedly. A fight or flight response igniting libido. Definitely fight. This dirty boy of mine refuses to let me sleep in a stitch of clothing. Even after being together for almost a year now I’m still not used to him helping himself to my nipples whenever the mood strikes him. But damn does it feel good when he kneads them like he is now.
“Mmm, mine,” he whispers, his hands working magic on my breasts. “Are you wet, baby? Do you want me?”
I pump my hips in response to the tantalizing teasing of his hands and his dirty British accent words. What is it about dirty talk with that accent of his? If I was wearing panties right now, they’d be melting off of me. He takes my body rocking against his as an invitation. His large, warm hands graze down my belly, slowly pressing firmer against me as he reaches me—
“Oh fuck!” I moan loudly as he pinches me right on the clit.
“Name’s Liam, but I’ll answer to Fuck just this once,” he murmurs huskily into my ear. His teeth sink into my lobe and his warm breath sends goose bumps all across my body. He shifts me onto my back and positions himself above me. His sexy, pouty mouth moves down and presses sexy fucking kisses right onto each one of my hardened nipples. I rake my hands through his messy blond hair and press my breasts together to cradle his face in my chest. He nuzzles and nips my skin in a delirious way.
I need to kiss him like I need to breathe right now. I attempt to pull him up to my mouth.
“I have other plans for my mouth, baby. I can smell your wet pussy from here and I’m going fucking wild wanting to taste you.”
If hot as hell dirty talk was an orgasm, he’d be named Liam Bloody Darby.
I release an unabashed groan at his arousing words as he continues a path of kisses down my belly. He pauses to swirl his tongue briefly into my navel before situating his face perfectly between my legs.
“God, I love every inch of you,” he says and then his lips find my aching clit.
I writhe beneath his touch, relishing in the fact that in this moment, I love every inch of me, too. And any moment I have a shred of doubt, Liam makes damn sure he fixes it.
“Three babies?” I exclaim to my mother as she holds the ultrasound probe against my belly.
“Three girls, Reyna!” Her watery eyes smile in genuine happiness. “Multiples run in our family, I’ve told you this!”
My eyes are wide as I take in the ghostly white room with a simple exam table and ultrasound machine. It’s as if we’re floating in air. I look down at my belly in shock at the large, round shape. “But Mom, three? What happens if they come early? What happens if I lose them all?” My chin quivers and tears form and fall in seconds. I’m attached to them. Just like that: Instantaneous.
“I’m here for you, sweetie. If they come early, we’ll deal with it. But, you’re already further along than I was when you and your sisters were born!” She strokes my cheek lovingly.
“I’m here for you, too.” I look up to find Marisa standing next to me, holding my hand.
I wipe the tears out of my eyes. “Marisa! I haven’t seen you in months!”
“You haven’t needed me, ma lady. That makes me really happy.” Her smile is beaming as she stands before me in all white, her blonde hair blowing in the nonexistent wind.
“It does?” I ask nervously.
“Yes! It means you’re rocking the whole life thing,” she winks and smiles at me.
“Marisa, I’m having triplets.” My face grows serious as I try to relay how utterly terrifying this moment is.
She shakes her head incredulously. “I know, eerie right? Three black roses. Three new babies. It was like it was meant to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like your sisters spirits being reborn or something! Is that reincarnation, you think?” Her eyes grow wide and amazed.
The orby sensation of my sisters fills the room in that moment and just like that, I know they are here with me. I can feel them all around me. I snap my gaze to my mother, all humor and happiness sucked from the room and replaced with a grave seriousness. “I want them all, Mom. I don’t want to lose one. Not one. I can’t feel them all my life and then lose them at the end.” Tears pour down my cheeks as a terrified sob breaks free from my mouth.
She nods, her face drooping in sad sympathy. “I know, baby. I know all too well. We’re going to do everything we can to get them all here safely.”
“When are you going to tell, Liam?” Marisa asks. I attempt to reply, but suddenl
y feel myself being pulled away. “Rey. Rey!”
“Rey!” Liam’s voice cries loudly from beside me.
My eyes fly open and I’m back in my bed, in my flat. I look around quickly and see it’s dark outside. The blue security light is creeping in through the blinds. I quickly reach down to touch my stomach to find that it is flat and smooth.
“Just a dream,” I sigh, turning to face a worried-looking Liam.
“Rey, you were crying in your sleep.” Liam’s hand reaches out and strokes my damp cheeks. “It was crushing, babe. Is everything okay?”
“I think so,” I croak, still feeling overwhelmed by the realness of that dream.
“What was the dream?”
“I was pregnant,” I reply, gauging his reaction carefully.
“Oh,” Liam’s eyes turn wide and nervous, then sad. “But, you were crying.”
“I was pregnant with triplets, Liam.”
“Fuck,” he exhales heavily. “So you were crying because you didn’t want them.” He says it like it’s a statement he already knows the answer to.
“No, I was crying because I did!” I reach out and touch his face lovingly. “They were ours. I wanted them all. They felt like this crazy beautiful do-over, Liam. Is that nuts?”
“Doesn’t sound nuts to me,” he replies, his expression pensive and deep in thought.
An immense sense of peace and hope cascades over me as I wrap my brain around how I feel about being a mother. “Liam, in my dream…those babies made me feel important. The same way you do. I loved them. Just like I love you. I didn’t know anyone else could give that to me.”
“I’d love to give you all of that, Rey.” His glossy eyes find mine in the darkness, probing at me for something specific.
“I want all of it, Liam,” I reply honestly.
His lips pucker out in that way that I know he’s trying to figure out how to word his next statement. Instead, he gets up and walks, bare ass naked and sexy as fuck, to the new dresser I bought a few months ago. With Liam sleeping over so much, I finally found the urge to buy some furniture for my flat. I didn’t go crazy. Just a bedframe, headboard, dresser, and small loveseat, but it all made my flat feel more like a home. Having Liam’s stuff inside the new dresser was something special I didn’t even realize I’d care about.
After a moment of rummaging, he pulls out what he’s looking for and stashes it behind his back. Standing before me again, he looks nervous, and I suddenly realize it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s as naked as the day is long.
He drops to his knees beside the mattress and I gasp as he pulls out a square jewelry box. “Liam!” I cry, sitting up, pulling the sheet up over my chest with me. He cracks the case open to reveal four thin bands of platinum silver, anchored together with four princess-cut diamonds, one placed on each band, all twined together.
“Four diamonds,” I whisper knowingly. “When did you get this?”
“That’s the eerie part, Rey. I’ve had this ring ever since I dreamt about it in Oxford.”
“But, that was before you knew I was a quad.” My jaw drops in shock. “How can that be?”
“I can’t explain it, but I dreamt it and then I saw it at a jewelry store. I bought it on the spot back then because there was a fear inside of me that if I didn’t buy it that day, I’d never see this ring again. And it’s so you. It’s beautiful and unique, edgy and feminine. Everything I’ve always seen in you. But, you’re so much more than all of that, Rey. The marks on your skin and on your heart are my favorite parts of you. They’ve allowed you to love me so fiercely that I still can’t believe most days that I get to call you mine.”
“Liam,” I press my hands over his mouth, unable to take another beautiful word from him. Tears slide down my cheeks as I replace my hand with my lips and kiss him passionately.
He returns my kiss, but pulls away much too soon. I see wonder in his eyes as he says, “Reyna Miracle Miller, we had a rocky start, an even rockier middle, but I want to have an incredible finish. Will you please marry me so I can live my life knowing that our marks are ours…to have and to hold, forever?”
I smile and laugh at the moment spread out before me. With my dream and his words, a renewed sense of spirit and place in this world washes over me, pushing me straight into the answer I so desperately want to scream.
“Yes,” I reply and giggle as he collides into me, shoving me backwards onto the bed and molding his lips with mine.
His tongue massages against my own and he pulls back suddenly, leaving my wanton lips puckered and upset by the recent vacancy.
“God, Rey, you’ve just made me so bloody happy. This tender moment calls for slow, passionate love, but I hope you’ll settle for the shag of your life because babe, I’m going to fuck you so hard right now, even your pussy is going to be screaming my name.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I giggle and he pinches my nipples so hard, I yelp. He swallows my cries with his mouth and that naughty, skillful, sexy tongue of his.
This man, this gorgeous, kind person, who knows exactly when to be bad—gave me all of this.
When you start your life small, like I did, being big seems like an impossible obstacle. But, with Liam Darby, I grew into something so much more.
“You two look bloody perfect back there behind the bar. Not nervous a bit.”
“Thanks, Al,” I say, smiling broadly and glancing over to Liam who’s lining up champagne flutes on the bar top. I pop the cork and begin filling the glasses with the fuzzy, golden liquid.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Alistair,” Liam says confidently. “This is an easy night. It’s just our friends coming. No customers, yet!”
I nod nervously in agreement. Tonight is our soft opening of White Swan Pub. It’s only been three months since Liam and I got engaged and so much has already changed. I still can’t believe this pub is really mine.
When Liam and I announced our engagement, my mom then proclaimed she too was getting married.
To Alistair.
I was a bit shocked at how quickly their wedding all came about. No sooner did she announce it, I was walking her down the aisle only a month later. Apparently they had been seeing each other quietly for years. I always sensed something between the two of them. Alistair was so protective of me right from the start and I’m certain that went a long way with my mother. And the way Al’s eyes twinkle when he looks at her…it’s kind of disgustingly swoon-worthy.
On their wedding day, Alistair handed me a wooden box with a swan burned into the lid. Inside it was the deed to the pub. Apparently he had always imagined handing his business down to his child. He said that he saw me as his daughter the first day he covered me with his jacket inside his pub.
I may have cried like…a million tears.
“Reyna, are you sure you want to cover the bar top like that? What if people want to sit there?” My mom asks, frowning at the display of champagne Liam and I are working on.
“Mom, there are tons of tables and booths they can sit at instead,” I argue.
“How many people are coming?” she asks, squinting to count all the tables.
“Thirty-ish.”
“I know, but—”
“Mom!” I snap. “Liam and I got this.”
Her frown morphs into a knowing smile and she purses her lips.
“Come on, love, I need some help in the back,” Alistair says, tucking my mother into his arm and leading her away.
I shake my head in frustration. My mother has definitely moved passed her annoying concrete smiling stage. Maybe too much! Now we have little arguments almost daily. She’s taken her tendency to hover and control into a new nit-picking level. Alistair has become a full time referee. But, the fact that she’s questioning me—instead of blindly praising me—is kind of amazing. Ever since she told me about Alistair, I’ve even noticed that her smiles are different. Believable. She’s a genuine kind of happy now.
“The party may commence!” F
rank’s voice announces from the entrance. He pauses mid-step and dramatically smoothes his glossy red hair to the side, even though it looks like it’s made of plastic from the copious amounts of product in it. He’s dressed in a sharp navy suit and power tie, and you can tell he’s proud of his ensemble.
A gentle shove comes from behind him and my eyes land on Leslie and Theo. Theo is in his standard perfectly-tailored trousers, plaid button down, and thick, dark-framed glasses. Leslie looks stunning. Her long, auburn-red hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and she’s wearing a fabulous flowy, empire waist tea-length dress.
“You’re not the Queen of fucking England, Frank. What are you waiting for? Trumpets?” she crows obnoxiously. I can’t help but laugh at the hilarity of how beautiful Leslie always looks, but how obnoxious her mouth is. Liam and I hang out with Theo and Leslie a lot now since the wedding. Ever since my talk with Theo at his shop, he’s welcomed me in with open arms, which is incredibly kind considering the fierce loyalty he has for his brother. Theo’s loyalty to Liam runs just as deep it would seem.
“The Queen and I are kindred spirits, Lezbo.” Frank’s eyes finally land on me. “Oxford! You sex monster. You look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet!”
My eyes flash knowingly at Liam. “Liam!” I cry accusingly and run to a nearby beer sign with a mirror in it. Holy shit, Frank’s right! My eyes are dilated, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, and hair mussed. Liam said I looked fine. I look properly shagged, so I guess that would be his definition of ‘fine.’
Mr. Bad Boy, Liam Darby did a surprise sneak attack on me in the wine room below the pub. God, it was hot as fuck. There was staff upstairs getting ready for the party and he bent me over a stack of kegs, took hold of the crotch of my panties and ripped them off with one powerful tug. Then he pounded into me like we were the last two people on earth and the fate of the human race hinged on this epic fuck. He even pulled my hair at the nape just as I—