Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 31 – Forgiveness

“Hello?” Victor’s mechanized voice scratches through the phone.

“Hey,” I say. “It’s nice to hear from you.”

Victor hesitates on the other side of the line and I realize, feeling stupid, that I’m talking to him like a

friend. I clear my throat and sit up straight in my closet.

“So, why don’t you tell me about your week? Did you have any productive conversations with your

partner?”

“Well, no,” he admits. “It’s been a busy week, I’ve been…occupied.”

So occupied you had time to take your sons to the theme park for a whole day, I think. “It’s important to

take time to work on your issues,” I say, stern. “Talk therapy is only ten percent. You’ve got to take the

things we learn about here and put them into action in your life.”

I hear him sigh. “Yes, I agree. It can be difficult to find a balance.”

“Yes, I understand. So, what’s been on your mind, recently?”

“My mate has been…well, I think she is reticent. To embrace our new life since my sons appeared on

the scene. I appreciate that this is something that was shoved on her without her consent – I really do.

But I wish I saw more…effort?”

“Tell me more about that,” I say, a little selfishly. “Has she been…cruel, to the children?”

“No,” Victor says, and I can imagine him shaking his head. “No, I truly believe that she is…innocent, of

the incident before. She just isn’t interested in them. She doesn’t want to spend time with the boys or

get involved in political projects that focus on children. She was excited to design the boys’ new

bedroom in my house but…honestly, I’m wondering if she enjoyed the project more for the design

challenge, rather than wanting to make the boys happy.”

I nod and hum in the back of my throat, letting him know I’m listening. “I worry,” he continues, “that

she’s just not interested in this family life. I thought that with more time she would mature and grow into

some kind of maternal instinct. But she doesn’t show many signs of that.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years.”

“That’s not a very long time,” I say. “Depending on her age, she could still be growing into that kind of

maternity. Some women don’t truly feel maternal until they get pregnant or have a child – it can be a

very bodily urge.”

I hear him sigh on the other end of the line, doubting me. “What?” I ask, pushing him.

“Just that…I don’t think she’s one of those, because she’s been pregnant before.”

“Ohhhh,” I say, my mouth making a perfect circle. Wow. That certainly is news.

“Yes,” he continues. “About nine months ago, Ame—” he stops, correcting himself, “she discovered that

she was pregnant. I was thrilled, of course, but she was devastated. And anxious.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“A miscarriage, very early on. At least…”

I wait, in silence, letting him process. “Well,” he continues, “she told me it was a miscarriage. But by

accident, some months later, I found a prescription in her nightstand for –I don’t know the medical term

for them, but – for abortion pills. To end a pregnancy in the early stages. I don’t know if she ever filled

the prescription, or used them, but I…suspect.”

“That’s a hard blow,” I say. “I’m sorry to hear that. Can you tell me how that made you feel?”

“Horrified, betrayed,” he says, huffing. “We always planned to have children. It never occurred to me

that my mate would…would kill my child.”

“Not everyone views abortion in those terms,” I say gently. “Perhaps she didn’t see it as such a

grievous offense, like you do.”

“She knows how I feel about it,” Victor growls. “Look, I’m not one of those people – I understand that

abortion is a choice women make sometimes, out of personal or medical necessity, but in this case,

with my family, with my child…to end the possibility, the life, of a much-desired child…It is

unforgivable.”

I nod slowly. “I understand. This must be very difficult for you. Have you spoken to her about it?”

“No,” he says, after a moment. “I tried to bring it up – actually, I tried the day I met my sons, ironically.

But it was during a fight.”

“That sounds like part of the problem,” I say. “This is a conversation that you need to have when you

are feeling calm and ready to hear her.”

“Yes,” he sighs. “That makes sense.”

“I think that you should have a clear, open talk with her about what you imagine your future to look like.

Honestly, if you’re ready to move forward, perhaps you should forgive her – maybe make peace with

the fact that you’ll never know whether she took those pills. If you’re ready to move forward with her,

then it doesn’t really matter what happened in the past. What matters is what you do in the future.”

“I’m not sure I can forgive so easily,” he growls.

“Well, perhaps that’s why you are in the place that you are. You need new skills, new methods, for

dealing with the people in your life.” Victor is silent on his side of the phone – I think I’ve hit a nerve.

“Leave it in the past,” I advise. “Ask her, honestly, about what your mutual timeline is for kids – make a

plan. Then, if she doesn’t come through on the plan to which you both agree, then you can have a

conversation about that. You don’t need to pin her to the wall for something which she may or may not

have done in the past.”

“I see,” Victor says. “This does sound…practical.”

“Go into it with your whole heart,” I say gently. “Try not to view it as a negotiation. Tell her what you

want, and listen when she tells you what she wants. Try to keep it fun – you’re imagining your future,

after all. It should be a pleasant conversation.”

Victor huffs a laugh. “Yes, in theory, I can see that’s true. But you haven’t met my mate.”

Haven’t I? I think, after Victor hangs up the phone. I think back on the advice that I’ve given him and

consider that, with Amelia…perhaps I have sent him into a bit of a minefield.

“Hey, baby,” Amelia says, lifting her shopping bags onto the kitchen island and swooping down to give

Victor a kiss on the cheek as he reads through some paperwork at the kitchen island.

“Hey,” he says, catching her hand and pulling her close. Amelia giggles and runs her hands through his

hair.

“You’re friendly today,” she says softly.

“I’m friendly every day,” Victor murmurs.

Amelia laughs at him and tilts his face up to her. “Baby, I don’t think anyone on earth would choose to

describe you as friendly.” They both laugh at that.

“Come sit with me,” Victor says, patting the stool next to him. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did! I got lots done,” Amelia says, flitting to the refrigerator to snag a bottle of wine and a glass before

sitting next to Victor. “I have all my outfits ready for spring. Lisbon first, and then Paris! It’s going to be

so great.”

“But it’s autumn,” Victor says, amused by her. “Do you need sundresses and strappy sandals now?”

Amelia winks at him, saluting. “You know me, a good little Beta scout. Always be prepared.”

Victor smiles at her, letting his eyes drift over her beautiful figure, her stunning face. How lucky he was,

to have a woman like Amelia as his mate. She smiles back at him and takes his hand, giving it a little

squeeze.

“Amelia…” Victor says softly, hesitating. Kind. Open, he says to himself internally, working hard to

remember his therapist’s advice. Listen to her. Make a mutual plan. “Can we…talk? About our plans for

the future?”

Amelia heaves a big sigh and pulls her hand out of his, using it, instead, to pour herself a big glass of

wine.

“No, baby, it’s not like that – this doesn’t need to be a fight. I’d just like to…you know, make a plan.”

“Why do we need a plan,” she says, taking a sip. “Plans go awry anyway. You couldn’t have planned

that you would find two of your genetic children one day at the taping of a game show, and that flipped

all our plans up in the air. So, why have a plan to start with?”

“That’s true,” Victor says, conceding, going against his instinct to argue that plans are necessary. “But, I

think we can have a sort of larger plan about what we want our lives to look like. In a year, in five years,

in ten or twenty. Then we can reassess when the world throws us curveballs.”

Amelia narrows her eyes at him, calculating. “Okayyyy,” she says, slowly. “Is this about kids?”

“Well –“

Amelia rolls her eyes and stands up. “Victor, you just got two kids, why are you in such a rush to have

more? Can’t we just take a break? Let life settle back into its old forms, before we decide to add more

to the chaos?”

“I’m just worried,” Victor says carefully, “that what you really mean when you say ‘take a break’ is…

never get started.”

“We’re going to have lots of babies,” Amelia says, taking both of his hands and smiling her most

charming smile, stepping close. “I’m just saying…there’s not really a rush. Let’s see where the world

takes us.”

“I want more children, Amelia,” Victor says, working hard to keep the conversation on track. “I want us

to have a family, one that includes Alvin and Ian, but which also adds our own kids. And, for my own

peace of mind, I’d like to have a timeline –“

“Yes,” Amelia coos, taking Victor’s face in her hands and kissing him softly, interrupting is train of

thought. “Lots of babies, Victor, as many as you want. We’ll get there,” she says, kissing him more

deeply, pressing her body to his.

Victor gives in, letting the thoughts about a serious conversation drift from his mind as Amelia’s hand

moves down his chest and starts to tug at the buckle of his belt.