《COMPLETED - EDITED》
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A Story of two independent businesses. Getting their fates tied by their fathers to make a stronger alliance.
But it was never meant ...
...to be like this
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Will Aideen Mara, l...
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It's been four months, and today is New Year's Eve. The boys have grown so much. They're off breast milk and on baby formula now, and thank God for that—I'm relieved to avoid saggy tits. Still, my breasts ache with a tenderness that reminds me of sleepless nights and endless feedings.
Becoming a parent has come surprisingly easy so far, but the sleep deprivation is brutal. It's worse than those nights in the Mafia when I'd be wide awake, getting only three to four hours of sleep. Now, with the boys, I'm lucky if I get an hour—or even nothing at all.
As I watch them on the couch, the sounds of their babbling fill the air, a soft symphony of baby words and giggles. Harrison is convinced their first words should be "mom," while I'm rooting for "dad." We have our little debates over it, each convinced our choice holds more significance. I can't wait to see them take their first steps—every moment feels monumental.
I tiptoe into the boys' room, careful not to wake them up too abruptly. They're always so snug in their cribs, their tiny bodies curled up like little angels. I lean down and gently shake them awake, smiling at their sleepy faces.
In the kitchen, I start making breakfast, glancing over at the boys playing on the couch. I can see them from my vantage point, and I can't help but laugh at their antics. I'm keeping a close watch, making sure they don't turn their toys into weapons. It's a stark contrast to the chaos of Harrison and me when we first started dating—a reminder of the fun, reckless moments we shared.
Drystan, my little hurricane, has inherited Harrison's stubborn streak. He's already smashing and breaking everything in his path, determined to get his way. It's both exasperating and endearing.
Just as I'm whisking eggs in a bowl, my phone vibrates on the counter, interrupting my thoughts. I glance at the screen—Harrison's name flashes in bold letters. He must be finishing up his morning briefing; he hates the idea of driving all the way to Canada just for a call. I pick it up and answer, eager to hear his voice.
"Hey, love," I say, smiling as I lean against the counter.
"Hey! How are the boys doing?" he asks, his tone filled with warmth.
"They're fine. Just plotting their next move, I think. You know, typical troublemakers," I reply, glancing back to see Drystan trying to wrestle a toy from Adrastus.
"Good luck with that. I'm betting on Drystan to be the ringleader," he chuckles, and I can hear the fondness in his voice.
"Just like his dad," I tease, rolling my eyes, but I can't help the smile that spreads across my face.
