Futuretake Part 1 (Nicholas POV)

Nicholas POV:

I'd always been a deconstructionist, breaking down complex issues into simpler parts to understand the whole better. I supposed the same could be said when I analyzed my life. It could be broken down into two basic parts: before Willow and after Willow.

When I really looked at it, the truth was that I never lived much of a life before Willow. I was accomplished, admired, and even desired and envied by almost everyone around me. I'd once thought that was enough. But I was wrong. I'd never been more wrong.

The last four and a half years had brought me so much more than I ever imagined possible. Much more than the decades preceding combined. More happiness. More fulfillment. More meaning. Before Willow, I was content with being successful in business, even at the expense of personal relationships. After Willow, my satisfaction was found nowhere near the billions of dollars at my fingertips.

It was in her smile. Her laughter. The way her eyes lit up when I told her how beautiful she was. It was in our son. Our William. In our triplet daughters she still carried. There wasn't a moment during my days when they weren't at the root of my thoughts. Were they safe? Were they happy? Was there anything more I could do to ensure both of those necessities were met?

I had been particularly cautious the last couple of months with Willow's protection. As her belly grew bigger with our children, I couldn't help but be reminded of what happened during her pregnancy with William.

How I'd made the biggest mistake of my life by letting go of her hand. Everyone told me it wasn't my fault, that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it if Kate was determined to hurt Willow. I'd tried to let go of the guilt over time, but it was always there in the back of my mind. With that one lapse in judgment, I'd almost lost the best thing that had ever happened to me. I'd almost lost them both.

And with every cell of my being, I knew that if I had lost them, I would have followed them soon after.

Some might call those thoughts morbid, but I just called them honest. My life could be broken into two parts: with Willow and without. And it was no longer possible for me to return to an existence without her.

.

"Higher, Daddy!"

I was attempting to balance and keep a grip on a wiggling William, who was standing on my shoulders and reaching to put the star on top of the tree. Willow giggled from the couch, where she had her feet propped up on a pillow, and gave us instructions on where each ornament should go. Her pregnancy was thirty-three weeks along, and her swollen feet bothered her daily.

"I can't lift you much higher, Buddy. Can you reach it?"

William jumped a little, his sock-clad toes digging into my shoulders when he landed. "I did it!" he yelled, clapping.

Willow laughed again. "It's crooked, William. Have Daddy lift you higher to fix it."

I growled and turned to send her a mock glare. She didn't appear the least bit repentant when she stuck her tongue out at me. My pretend threats obviously meant nothing when she knew I was wrapped around her little finger. I had been from the start.

"This way," William said, hopping on his right foot.

I returned my attention to my excited son, extending him as far as I could while he fiddled with the star.

"That's it," Willow said. "You got it, William."

He squealed again, jumping off my shoulders in a swan dive as I held him in my grip. I turned him in a mid-air somersault—his laughter ringing in my ears—before setting him on his feet. He took off running toward his mother.

"Careful, Buddy. Remember, no jumping on your mom. You have to be gentle with the girls."

He slowed down, first hugging Willow and then her belly.

It had been interesting trying to explain to William about the upcoming arrival of his sisters. He was excited, but I wasn't sure he really understood how small and "non-functional" they would be at the beginning. He thought they would be here and immediately be his playmates.

"Will the babies get here before Santa?" he asked Willow, patting her stomach.

"Well..." she started, ruffling his hair. "They aren't due until after Christmas, but they may come early. You came a little early."

I plugged in the lights and walked over to them, taking a seat on the couch and putting her legs on my lap.

"Won't they be sad if they miss Christmas?" he asked, turning his big eyes on me. It was hard to believe he'd be four in just a few months. It seemed like the time had flown by.

"No, they won't be sad. They'll be too little to remember this year."

He didn't seem to believe me, his face inching closer to Willow's stomach. "Babies, come out!" he yelled. "Presents are fun!"

"You don't need to yell," Willow explained. "They can hear you when you talk to them."

He liked that, because he could talk all day and all night and then some. He proceeded to squeeze himself in next to Willow and chatted about everything Christmas. From chimneys and sugarplums to Baby Jesus and mangers. I'd been told by friends and family that there was nothing quite like having kids his age around the holidays.

The word magical was used a couple of times to describe it. I wasn't sure about all of that, but it was fun to watch him enjoy himself, and maybe some of his enthusiasm rubbed off a little, too. I certainly needed it.

A shiver ran through me as I massaged Willow's calves and feet, and I briefly glanced over to find her snuggling William while he prattled on. This pregnancy had been hard on her, for completely different reasons than her first.

We'd moved back into our home in the city about a month before, to be closer to Dr. Whitney and the hospital. Willow had one brief spurt of energy during her second trimester, where she felt good and attacked me constantly for some adult time. I'd been so happy—not just about all the sex—but because it seemed she'd become better. Then she grew lethargic and nauseous again, not quite as bad as the first trimester, but enough to worry me and Dr. Whitney.

She'd had weekly visits to the doctor for the last two months, only recently those being upped to at least twice a week. Dr. Whitney had been concerned she may be showing symptoms of pre-eclampsia, but then her blood pressure would normalize.

At this point, they didn't know exactly what was wrong, and it would be a miracle if I wasn't completely grey-headed by the time the triplets were born.

My eyes flickered back over to Willow, and she lifted her head as if she felt my stare.

"I love you," she mouthed.

Even silent, those three little words from her made my heart pound against my chest. I watched her close and could tell by her fidgeting she was starting to become uncomfortable.

"Hey, William," I said, interrupting him. "It's about time for you to brush your teeth."

"But I'm telling the babies about Christmas." He held on to Willow tighter.

I stood up and put her legs back on a cushion, before moving down to tickle William until he let go of his mom.

"Come on." I placed him on his feet. "You go on up and pick out a book. I'll be there in a minute to read to you."

"I want Mommy to read to me," he whined.

Sometimes it was a trial getting him to settle down at night, but I couldn't complain. He was generally well-behaved.

"Not tonight, Buddy. Let Mommy get some rest."

She grabbed William's arm before he could take off. "Give me a kiss before bed."

It tugged at me the way they held each other and said their goodnights. But my heart almost stopped when she cradled his face in her hands and told him she loved him with watery eyes. Something was wrong.

As soon as William scampered off, I knelt down beside her and brushed her hair back off her face. "What is it? Are you okay?" I asked, rubbing her belly.

She reached for me, trying to pull me closer. "I'm okay. Just overly emotional, I think." She kissed me and sighed. "Maybe it's the tree lights."

I was far from convinced. "Baby, we can go to the hospital right now. Laura can stay with William."

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. I promise. Just a little queasy, but it's okay." Her hand joined mine, rubbing circles over the triplets. "They're really active tonight. I like that." Her smile was brave, but her eyes were still teary.

I was torn about what to do. She obviously didn't feel well, but she didn't want to leave. I wasn't going to force her out in the cold and snow tonight if I didn't have to. Besides, we had another appointment with Dr. Whitney the next morning.

I pressed my lips to hers again, before kissing her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. When she finally giggled, I felt a little less nervous. "Are you sure you don't want to go tonight?" I asked again.

She nodded. "Yes, I'm sure." She squeezed my hand. "Go on up and check on him. He's probably covered his bathroom in toothpaste by now."

"Do you want me to take you to bed first? Are you okay to wait here?"

"I'm fine. I'll stay here with the lights. You two did a good job decorating."

I watched her face for a few moments, looking for any more signs of distress. She either really was feeling better or she was hiding it very well.

"I'll be right back," I said, giving her one more kiss. She chuckled, both of us knowing it'd take longer than that until William fell asleep. I stood up and stretched my legs, walking slowly toward the stairs.

When I glanced back, her head was turned toward the tree. She almost looked like an angel with the lights reflecting off her hair and her face. She was an angel.

.

Willow's fingers dug into my hand as we watched Dr. Whitney enter the room again, her face stony. We'd been in this examination room for over two hours now, while Willow had been poked and prodded without pause. "Willow, we're going to get you admitted to the hospital. Your blood pressure is still much too high, along with your protein levels."

I tried to remember to breathe. To not flip out and scare Willow even more than she already was.

"What does that mean?" Willow asked, the fear rolling off of her. "You have to take the babies out now?"

"We're going to keep monitoring you, but yes, if your blood pressure doesn't improve, we'll deliver soon. Your triplets are slightly under what I'd consider term weight, but both of their heartbeats are strong. They may have to spend a little time in the NICU adding weight, but I fully expect two healthy babies, even if we deliver immediately. I'm more concerned about your health right now."

Willow seemed to calm a little at Dr. Whitney's assurance the babies should be fine. However, I was still a mess worrying about her.

As soon as Dr. Whitney mentioned pre-eclampsia weeks ago, I'd read everything about it I could get my hands on. Basically, the placenta from carrying the babies was making Willow sick. It was poisoning her. There could be progression to eclampsia, HELLP syndrome, liver failure, kidney failure, convulsions. Death.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, grabbed Willow's clothes, and stood up. "I'm taking you now." There was no time to waste. Why were we still in this fucking room? I glanced at Dr. Whitney. "You're meeting us there?"

"Yes. Take her straight to Labor and Delivery. They'll be expecting you."

I contemplated just carrying Willow in the gown she was wearing, and probably would have if it wasn't so cold outside. Instead, I helped her get dressed, calling John to pull the car up at the same time.

The next few hours went by in a blur. Willow was quickly ushered to a room and hooked up to a million machines, doctors and nurses coming and going constantly. I left her only to call home and check on William, returning to find Dr. Whitney at her bedside.

"Oh, good. You're here," she said, seeing me rush in. "I was just telling Willow that the good news is her blood pressure has stabilized somewhat." I ran my hand through my hair and let out a gust of air.