He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162 Epilogue: Life Truly Couldn’t Be Better

Scar’s POV

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We go to the doctor the next day and learn that I am already two months pregnant. Over the following seven months, I am spoiled relentlessly with incredible food, foot rubs, body rubs, and sex–lots of sex. As my belly grows, my appetite for it becomes impossible to satisfy. I want it constantly. Sometimes my boys complain about being exhausted, so I entertain myself with my wand.

My emotions swing wildly, which irritates the hell out of me and keeps my guys tiptoeing around me. One day I come home from grocery shopping and catch them sixty–nining on the couch. I immediately burst into tears because I want to join in. Then I cry harder because I convince myself they prefer each other and waited until I left to be alone. I lock myself in our bedroom and refuse to open the door so they can comfort me. Eventually, I cry myself to sleep, furious at myself for being a pathetic little bitch.

Then there are stretches where I don’t want them touching me at all. Nothing they do feels right, and I snap into mini rages for nearly a month. Everything shifts in my third trimester, when I turn into an overbearing, affectionate mother hen. I make sure their meals are hot and ready. I bake cookies, brownies, and pies. I keep the house spotless and the laundry clean and fresh. I love hanging clothes and bedding outside on the line.

Every night, they each get a blow job, and I make sure to give them space so they can have time together. My guys are completely thrown off. I overhear both of them on the phone with their mothers, asking what they should do because I’ve become someone’s wife. I have to leave the house because I’m laughing so hard.

Now we are sitting at the table. My belly is enormous, and I waddle wherever I go. I cook chicken broccoli casserole for dinner, and while we eat, I feel my contractions begin. I don’t want to scare them, and I want them to finish a solid meal before everything starts. I stand up and wash the dishes despite their protests, telling them to sit back and relax while I bring dessert. I know first births can take a long time. I time the contractions and notice they come every ten minutes, so I’m not worried just yet.

I carry bowls filled with molten lava cake and scoops of vanilla ice cream out to my men, then lower myself down between them while they start eating.

“You’re not having any dessert, love?” Milo asks.

“No. I need to let my food settle. I’m done eating for a bit,” I reply.

“Why’s that?” Jace asks.

I stay silent for a moment. I’m holding my breath while a contraction moves through me. This one feels stronger than the last, and it arrives six minutes after the previous one.

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<Chapter 162 Epilogue. Life Truly Couldn’t Be Better

“I’m in labor.”

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Milo and Jace both freeze, spoons halfway to their mouths. At the exact same time, they set their

bowls on the coffee table and spring to their feet.

I remain seated, watching them rush around the house. They’re pulling on shoes, shouting reminders at each other to grab different things. I watch Milo scoop up all of our go–bags and bolt out the front door, with Jace grabbing the diaper bag and car seat before chasing after him. My eyebrows lift as I

wait for one of them to notice I’m not with them. One minute passes, then another, and I let out a sigh.

A second later, I hear pounding footsteps, and both of them burst back through the front door.

“Sorry, beautiful.”

“Sorry, princess.”

I lift my arms, and Milo bends down to scoop me up into them. Jace grabs my shoes and locks the

house behind us. We reach the hospital in ten minutes flat, and by then my contractions are five

minutes apart and last what feels like a full minute each. As Milo helps me out of the truck, my water

breaks all over him.

“I’m sorry,” I squeak.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” he says calmly.

They get me admitted, and soon I’m settled in our birthing room, trying to relax. Jace rubs my lower back while Milo feeds me ice chips. I’m checked every thirty minutes, but I stay stuck at six centimeters for nearly two hours. I’m absolutely miserable, yet I refuse medication. I want to do this

completely natural.

I groan as one especially brutal contraction tears through me.

“Breathe, princess. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it. You’re doing amazing,

baby,” Jace murmurs.

“Thank you. You’rubbing my back feels incredible, Jace.”

“That’s good. Whatever you need, baby,” he replies.

An hour later, I reach ten centimeters and it’s time to push. Jace positions himself behind me while

Milo holds one of my legs back and wide, and a nurse supports the other.

“Alright, Scar, I’m going to need you to push with the next contraction,” the doctor says.

“Okay,” I pant.

The contraction crashes down and I push, with Jace helping me through it. The pain is overwhelming,

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<Chapter 162 Epilogue: Life Truly Couldn’t Be Better

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almost blinding. I know immediately that I never want to do this again. Another contraction hits, followed by more pushing.

“God damn it, Jace. Your baby’s big ass head is not coming out of me,” I shout.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says.

“You better be. I swear to God, I am never doing this again.”

“Hey now,” Milo says, pouting slightly.

“Ugh, fine. But I swear, Milo, you better give me a small baby.”

He laughs softly, and I growl at him.

“Sorry,” he says.

Another contraction builds and I push with everything left in me.

“That’s it, Scar, I can see the head. You wanted to wait to find out, right? Well, here’s a surprise–your

baby has a full head of hair,” the doctor announces.

“Wonderful. Get it out of me!” I snap.

The doctor tuts, and I briefly consider murdering him.

“Alright, give me one big push,” he instructs.

I do, screaming at the top of my lungs as an intense burning sensation tears through me.

“Stop pushing,” the doctor orders sharply.

I obey, then immediately scream again as a sharp pain hits my vagina.

“Sorry, I had to cut you so you wouldn’t tear. The head is out, now the shoulders. You’ve got this, Scar. One final push.”

I give that last push, and I feel my baby slide free. The relief is intoxicating. The baby is placed on my stomach and rubbed firmly with a towel. Her cries sound like the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard.

“You have a baby girl. Congratulations,” the doctor says.

I break down sobbing–she’s perfect.

“Look what you did, princess. You gave us a beautiful baby girl,” Jace says thickly as he kisses the back of my head.

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<Chapter 162 Epilogue: Life Truly Couldn’t Be Better

“She’s so tiny and precious,” Milo says softly.

A nurse steps in and takes her, and I look to Milo, who nods and follows her.

“I just need to stitch you up. The placenta looked good. After that, the nurses will clean you and change the bedding,” the doctor explains.

I nod and lean back against Jace as he gently rubs my shoulders.

“I love you so much, princess. Thank you for giving us a baby girl. What are we naming her?”

“Nova Violet,” I answer.

Watching Jace and Milo with Nova is pure magic, and six months later I’m already struck with baby fever. Milo gets me pregnant almost immediately. Nine months after that, I give birth to a baby boy, and we name him Beckett Romero. Over the past couple of years, my life becomes fuller and brighter than I ever imagined. I have never felt happier. I am enough, and I am deeply loved. I smile while sipping tea on our wraparound porch, watching Milo and Jace walk the homestead with a child in each of their arms, checking on animals and crops. Life truly couldn’t be better.

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