The drive back from the hospital to Emilia's penthouse was filled with an odd kind of stillness, a silence that seemed to settle between them all like an unspoken understanding. The only sound was the soft hum of the car engine and the occasional rustle from the backseat. Hope was sound asleep, her little body curled up snugly in her car seat, her tiny breaths steady and content. Elian, however, was less peaceful—he fussed now and then, his little whimpers floating to the front where Emilia sat beside Sebastian.
Sebastian, however, remained focused, his hands steady on the wheel. He drove like the road was made of glass, cautious and calm. His other hand never strayed far from Emilia's, resting gently on her lap, his fingers loosely wrapped around hers in a gesture that had become second nature. Despite the chaos of their day—the whirlwind of emotions, the overwhelming flood of new life—there was something deeply grounding in their shared silence, in the rhythm of the ride, in the sense of togetherness.
When they arrived at the penthouse, the house seemed to glow against the backdrop of the night, its warm lights welcoming them home. The door opened to reveal Tasha, who had obviously been busy getting everything ready. The nursery was painted in soft neutrals, stars hanging from the ceiling, casting a gentle glow in the space. The cribs were perfectly set up, the bottles neatly arranged, and everything else was in its place.
"Home," Emilia whispered as she stood in the doorway, her voice barely more than a breath.
Sebastian took a deep breath, his eyes sweeping over the house. "Home," he echoed, his voice thick with emotion, as if the word itself held more weight than it ever had before.
But then, in the blink of an eye, came the chaos. Hope's cry pierced the quiet of the house, sharp and sudden. Elian joined in shortly after, his voice adding to the symphony of newborn wails.
Emilia froze for a moment, the weight of their new reality crashing into her. She stumbled towards the kitchen, fumbling for the bottle she had already prepared, but the sound of the babies' cries filled her ears, drowning out everything else. "Which one is hungry?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced between them, her hands trembling slightly.
Sebastian stood there for a second, staring at the twins with a look of confusion and helplessness. "I don't know, babe, they both look… offended," he said with a grimace, trying to keep his tone light even as he felt the pressure building.
Emilia handed one of the babies to him, her voice firm. "You take Elian. I'll handle Hope."
He hesitated, still looking at the tiny bundle in his arms, unsure of what to do. "I don't know if I'm qualified—"
"Sebastian," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite her exhaustion. "Just try. You can do this."
He straightened up, his expression shifting from uncertainty to resolve. "I'm a man. I fix engines. I can handle diapers." He nodded to himself as if saying it out loud gave him the confidence he needed.
But then, ten minutes later, he was standing in the middle of the room, staring at a tiny diaper in his hands like it was some kind of alien artifact. His brows furrowed in disbelief. "This thing has more folds than a damn road map," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration.
Emilia, watching him from across the room as she soothed Hope, burst into laughter. It was a sound that echoed through the house, light and genuine, and for a moment, the exhaustion of the day seemed to melt away. "Welcome to parenthood," she teased, her voice soft with amusement.
Sebastian shot her a look, still struggling with the diaper, but his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. He wasn't sure if he was more confused by the diaper or by the sheer enormity of what they'd just embarked on. But seeing Emilia's smile—he knew it was all worth it.
Eventually, the babies settled down. The house grew quieter, the air softer, more peaceful. The twins, exhausted from their tantrums, drifted into a gentle sleep in their cribs. Emilia and Sebastian moved into their bedroom, the crib positioned right next to the bed as they had planned. The quiet of the house wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, and for the first time in a long while, they found themselves sitting beside each other, in the stillness of the night.
Sebastian wrapped his arm around Emilia, pulling her close as they gazed at their children. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the nightlight, the peaceful rise and fall of the babies' chests the only sound in the room.
Emilia rested her head on his shoulder, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke. "Did you ever imagine this?"
He took a deep breath, the weight of her question settling over him like a heavy but welcome fog. He gazed at the twins, his heart full. "I dreamed of you. But this… them… this is beyond anything I could've ever built."
Her hand reached for his, fingers brushing against his in a tender gesture. She smiled softly, her voice filled with warmth. "I love you."
He turned toward her, his gaze meeting hers, filled with tenderness. He kissed her forehead, a gentle, lingering kiss that carried more meaning than words ever could. "I'll spend every day making sure you never forget that," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Outside, the wind whispered against the windows, the world beyond their home moving in its own quiet rhythm. Inside, however, there was a different kind of peace. It wasn't the quiet kind that existed before—where it was just the two of them, alone in their world. No, this peace was full. Full of tiny cries in the night, full of feedings and diapers, full of the love they had for each other and for the tiny lives they had created together. Full of promise, full of growth, full of forever.
And in that moment, as they sat together, side by side, watching their children sleep, they both knew: their forever had just begun.