Meant To Be - Michael & Angela

Chapter 10 - Twins & Tensions

13th of March, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 25

Michael: I stared down at the ultrasound pictures in my hand.

My fingers traced absentmindedly over the little faces, and I studied their still undeveloped features.

Twins... Two babies, two lives I'm about to be responsible for. Gosh, how are we gonna handle two?

A nervous chuckle escaped my lips, and I shook my head in disbelief as we drove through the crowded streets of New York.

The city outside blurred into nothingness, every horn and distant shout faded, my focus entirely on our babies.

My babies.

"I still can't believe we're having twins, Mike," Angela said, her arm linked with mine. "I mean, one baby is enough, but two? We're gonna have our hands so full..."

I pulled my gaze from the pictures to look at her, her face glowing with that effortless beauty that always left me breathless.

Yet, even her brightness couldn't fully calm me.

Worries filled my head.

How can I be enough for all of them, Angela, the twins? How can I make space for them in a world that never let me be truly alone?

"I know, but look at them..." I showed her the pictures for the millionth time, as if she hadn't already memorized every detail.

"They're so small. And so real."

"Too real." I mumbled, the gravity of our situation finally settling in.

She laughed lightly, definitely sensing my worries. "Yeah... Do we have to go back to the penthouse? I really don't want to face your mother right now... I just need soak in our happiness for a little, just us. I don't have the patience for another one of her lectures."

"We're gonna have to face her eventually, Angie." I sighed, knowing we couldn't avoid her.

I hated how she demanded that we'd get married, now, talking to us as if we didn't know what we were doing.

Angela pouted, "I know."

I wanted to protect her from all of it; the expectations, the judgment, the chaos.

But how could I protect her when I couldn't even protect myself?

"I'll tell you what," I forced a smile, trying my best to sound confident. "We go back, we talk to her, and tomorrow you can come with me to the studio. Get some fresh air, away from her."

Her eyebrows raised in concern. "I don't know, Michael... What if someone sees me and talks? Then word gets out about this pregnancy and-"

"Hey," I cut her off gently, hoping to calm her down, and myself. "I promise, no one will see you. It's just me in there tomorrow, brainstorming. Bill will get us in and out, just like today. Right, Bill?"

I glanced up towards Bill in the driver seat, who nodded without missing a beat. "Yes, sir."

"See? There's nothing to worry about, baby."

She looked down at her bump. "There's still your mother, though. What if she's right? Maybe we should just get married, so she leaves us alone."

Her words hurt, even if only for a second. She didn't realize how much they did.

Marrying her was all I wanted, but not like this.

Not because my mother was pushing us into it.

Not because of fear. I wouldn't let that be the reason.