Page 56 of Angel
We don’t disappear anymore.
We don’t tear each other apart trying to outrun pain.
We stand.
Together.
And this time….
We’re ready.
Chapter Twenty-One
Stevie
Ibarely recognize the woman in the mirror anymore. I’m not lost anymore; I found the strong woman I always was inside. I stand in the bathroom in just a soft bra and leggings, one hand braced on the counter, the other spread wide over the curve of my stomach like I’m holding the center of the universe. My bump is round and heavy now, skin stretched tight and warm beneath my palm. It shifts when I move, alive in a way that still feels like a miracle.Alive.That word still knocks the breath out of me sometimes.
I tilt my head, studying the faint silver lines tracing my hips. The way my belly rises and falls when I breathe. The way my ribs ache some nights from being stretched wider than they were ever meant to go. My feet swell by the end of the day. My backcomplains when I roll over. My nipples are permanently tender. My bladder has declared war on my sleep schedule.
Once, I would have catalogued every sensation with fear. What does this mean? Is this normal? Is something wrong? Now, I just… notice. My body isn’t betraying me. It’s working.
“Hey there,” I whisper to my reflection.
Then softer, to the curve beneath my palm. “We made it this far.”
A slow roll answers me from the inside, deliberate, unmistakable. A long stretch that makes my skin ripple. I laugh, startled and full, pressing my hand there again.
“Okay, okay. I hear you.” There’s another push, sharper this time.
“You two are already tag-teaming me,” I mutter.
Twins.Even now, that word feels surreal. Angel knocks lightly and pushes the door open before I can answer. He freezes when he sees me like this.
Not embarrassed.
Not startled.
Just… reverent.
His eyes soften in that way they do when he forgets to guard himself. When he’s not Road Captain. Not the man everyone leans on. Just my husband.
“You’re beautiful,” he says.
I snort softly. “I feel like a planet.”
“Best damn planet I’ve ever seen.”
I roll my eyes but let him come closer. He steps behind me, wraps his hands around my waist carefully, and meets my gaze in the mirror. There’s awe there. He crouches slowly, palms spreading over either side of my belly. His forehead presses against it like he’s bowing to something sacred.
“Morning, troublemakers,” he murmurs. A strong kick answers immediately.
He jerks back with a laugh. “Hey!”
“That one’s got your attitude,” I say.
“And that one’s got your timing,” he counters as another movement rolls across my skin. “They only do this when I’m around.”
“They know you’re here,” I say quietly.
