Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 201 – Pancakes

A few hours later, wrapped in our coziest robes, Victor and I step out of our room.

As soon as we walk out, I can hear the noise of our boys downstairs, laughing and talking as they have their breakfast.

I clutch my robe tightly around my neck as I hear them and look up at Victor, a huge smile breaking out on my face. God, it’s good to hear them laugh.

Victor returns my look and takes my hand. Then slowly, carefully, we walk down the hall and head down the stairs.

As soon as they hear the creek of our footsteps on the stairs, we hear everyone go silent.

I’m ahead of Victor, so they see my feet first, staying silent. Then, as soon as they see Victor’s slipper appear on the step above mine, we hear a collective gasp.

Victor and I look at each other at that and can’t help but burst into laughter.

“Mama!” Alvin shouts, running to the clutch the banister at the bottom of the stairs.

“Papa!” Ian screeches, right after him, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and banging into the wall at the bottom. “You’re better!”

They start up the stairs towards us but Victor puts out a hand –

“Wait, wait,” Victor says, his voice soft. “We’re not totally better yet, okay? Go easy on us.”

“Come and take our hands,” I say to them, smiling at my boys at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take my eyes off of them. So precious to me, these two little things.

Grinning at us, Alvin and Ian obediently come gently up the stairs. Alvin takes my hand, helping me balance, my little gentleman. Ian goes up a step beyond me, helping his dad by letting Victor put a hand on his shoulder.

When we get down into the kitchen, I tear my eyes away from my boys to look at Rafe, who is sitting at the table, pale as a ghost.

Burton stands behind him, a spatula in his hand, the pan he was using to cook beginning to smoke lightly on the stove behind him.

says, his eyes moving to the pan. “Burton,

and running to the pan to contain

stop looking

following us as Ian and Alvin lead us to seats at the table. “How

sit down. I don’t wanting to have this conversation in front of my sons.

to help. “The newspaper,” I say, giving them a big excited grin. “Do you think you could go out into the driveway and

“Pleasssseeee, babies?” I say, clutching my

the front door, slipping on their boots and grabbing their jackets

me curiously. “Do we…subscribe to

at Rafe. “But. I don’t want them to know how bad it was, last night. How close

then he

Rafe says, his voice still full of disbelief. “It was…it was so bad last night. You were…god damnit, Victor, but you were on death’s doorstep. I really didn’t think that you were going to make

he brings us over two glasses of orange juice, smiling at

running a hand over his amazed face, as if he might be seeing a mirage. “But, you know, not dead. Or anywhere near

smiling at me tenderly, taking my hand. I feel a tingle run all

Rafe says, starting

shrug. And really – I’m not trying to be cryptic. I don’t really know what happened, what I

of course – my memories of going to that place, somewhere in my mind but also somewhere beyond it. Of what it looked like there, of what we did, of how we…made the exchange. But…I suppose that some things I want to

So, I improvise.

just…followed my instincts. Nursed him through the night, and whatever it was that was making him so sick

I give him a little shrug. He doesn’t need to believe me, I guess. Frankly, it doesn’t really matter what happened

belief. Any attempt to explain it, really,

let go and walk away,”

and raising his glass of orange juice to his lips. I watch him drink, thrilled to see it. He hasn’t had anything except water and broth for days. God, it is such a relief to see

feel as if I could eat

is there at my shoulder with a stack of pancakes. “Madame,” he says

I say, looking up at him, my eyes still