LOGINEMMA'S POV The twenty-week appointment arrives. Dominic and I haven't talked since his confession three days ago. We've texted about the appointment, nothing more. I'm waiting in the lobby when he walks in, looking exhausted. "Did you sleep at all?" I ask. "Not much. You?" "No." Dr. Patel calls us back. The ultrasound tech squirts gel on my stomach, now rounded and obvious. "Ready to find out?" she asks cheerfully. Dominic and I glance at each other. He nods. "Baby A is a girl," the tech says, moving the wand. "And Baby B is... also a girl. Congratulations, you're having twin girls." Girls. Two daughters. I look at Dominic. His face has gone pale. "Are you okay?" I ask quietly.
DOMINIC'S POVMy grandmother shows up at my office unannounced on Tuesday morning.Grace Westbrook doesn't knock. She walks in like she owns the place—which, technically, she partially does."Dominic. We need to talk."I don't look up from my laptop. "I'm busy.""About the girl living in your penthouse."Now I look up. "Emma is none of your business.""She is when it affects the company's reputation." Grace sits across from my desk, perfectly composed. "I've been hearing things.""What things?""That you're becoming attached. That this surrogacy arrangement has become complicated.""Who told you that?""Victoria called me. She's concerned."Of course she did. "Victoria has no idea what she's talking about.""Doesn't she? You rejected her marriage proposal. A proposal that would solve all your problems—a wife, a mother for the twins, and my approval for the board.
EMMA'S POV We don't talk about what happened in the car. For a week, we move around each other even more carefully than before. Dominic leaves early for work, comes home late. I eat dinner with Mrs. Kowalski and pretend everything is normal. It's not normal. I'm sixteen weeks pregnant now. There's a small bump that I can't hide anymore. The babies move sometimes, little flutters that remind me this is real. On Friday, Mrs. Kowalski corners me in the kitchen. "You need to talk to him." "I don't know what you mean." "Don't play dumb with me, kochanie. You and Mr. Dominic, you're both miserable." "We're fine." "You're both in love and too stubborn to admit it." I nearly drop my water glass. "I'm not in love with him." "No?" She raises an eyebrow. "Then why you cry every night? Why you sit by the window waiting for him to come home?" "I don't—" "I'm old, not blind. And he's just as bad. Staring at his phone hoping you'll text. Working late because he's afraid to be near you.
EMMA'S POVDr. Patel's office is cold.I'm lying on the exam table while she does the twelve-week ultrasound. Dominic stands against the wall, arms crossed, maintaining his careful distance.We haven't spoken about the balcony conversation. That was four days ago."There's Baby A," Dr. Patel says, pointing at the screen. "And Baby B. Both measuring perfectly."Two tiny shapes on the screen. Hearts beating. Arms and legs visible now."They're so small," I whisper."They'll get bigger. Trust me." Dr. Patel smiles. "Everything looks excellent. Emma, how are you feeling?""Better. Less nauseous.""Good. The second trimester is usually easier. You can resume light activities, but nothing strenuous."After the appointment, James drives us home in silence. Dominic stares out the window."Did you want to know the genders?" I finally ask."Do you?""I asked first."He
EMMA'S POVWe don't talk about what Dominic said.For three days, we move around each other carefully. He asks about my doctor's appointments. I tell him the babies are growing normally. We're polite strangers sharing a space.On Sunday morning, I wake up to find him in the kitchen making breakfast. Badly."What are you doing?" I ask."Attempting pancakes. Mrs. Kowalski has the day off and I thought you might be hungry."The batter is lumpy and the stove is smoking. I take the spatula from him."Move. You'll burn the place down.""I can cook.""Evidence suggests otherwise."He steps aside, and I fix the batter, adjust the heat, and make actual edible pancakes. We eat in silence at the kitchen island."These are good," he says."Basic cooking skills. I learned before culinary school.""You miss it. Cooking professionally."It's not a question."Every day. But the bed rest is necessary. For the twins.""After they're born, you'll go back to it.""That's the plan."More silence. Then Dom
EMMA'S POVMrs. Kowalski discovers I'm crying over a commercial about puppies."Kochanie, what's wrong?""Nothing. The puppies found homes and it's just so beautiful." I'm sobbing into a throw pillow at ten in the morning, still in my pajamas.She sits beside me, rubbing my back. "Hormones are terrible things. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I cried because my husband folded the towels wrong.""Did it get better?""Eventually. Then the baby came and I cried about everything else." She smiles. "But you have good reason to cry. This is hard thing you're doing.""I signed up for it.""Doesn't make it easier." She studies my face. "You like him. Mr. Dominic.""What? No. It's just a contract.""Contract doesn't make you look at him the way you do.""I don't look at him any way."She pats my hand. "Okay, kochanie. You keep telling yourself that."After she leaves, I t







