The Hale twins were fortunate; they only needed two weeks in the NICU. During half of that time, Keeley was still hospitalized recovering from childbirth. Aaron refused to leave her side until she came home, feigning illness to avoid work without his father's suspicion.

The new parents spent considerable time practicing kangaroo care—holding the babies skin-to-skin against their chests. The NICU nurses highly recommended this to aid the babies' development, and it also helped calm Keeley and Aaron. It was reassuring proof that their children were thriving.

They also received a steady stream of visitors, starting with Valentina. Keeley had given birth at her usual hospital, so word quickly spread that her friend was in the maternity ward.

NICU babies had stricter visitor rules beyond parents, but several hours daily were allotted for visitors. Robert visited almost every day to see his grandchildren, and the rest of the Hales' friends visited at least once.

No one could agree on whom the babies resembled. Their bald heads made it impossible to determine their hair color. Keeley wondered if they would be blonde, chocolate brown, or something in between.

Even Gray visited to see his niece and nephew. Aaron wasn't thrilled, but couldn't refuse his unexpected appearance. Gray peered at them with vague interest.

"They're so small," he observed.

"They were born about a month early," Aaron pointed out. "I don't think they'll even fit into the newborn clothes we bought them."

"They don't sell clothes for preemies?"

"They do, but we'll have to go find them," Keeley said with a shrug, accidentally jostling Violet, whom she was holding.

Her husband shook his head. "You need rest. We can order them online."

And that's exactly what they did. Whenever they weren't at the hospital, Keeley felt overwhelmed with idle time. She spent hours browsing online for preemie clothes.

The day they finally brought their children home, she felt an overwhelming surge of joy. Each parent secured a baby in a car seat and transported them to the car. Fastening the seatbelts through the tiny slots proved challenging, but they managed.

Kaleb cried a little in the car, but Violet slept the entire journey. When the elevator doors opened to their penthouse, Keeley felt immense relief. They were home.

"Welcome home, babies," she whispered.

Aaron kissed her cheek before helping Violet from the car seat. They had already purchased everything they needed, so unpacking the guest room closets was their only remaining task.

She sat on the couch and began nursing her son, who was fussing—around his usual feeding time.

The NICU nurses had advised that with twins, supplementing breast milk with formula was usually best, as there wasn't always enough for both. To maintain consistency, they would alternate between nursing and bottle-feeding.

Her husband settled Violet and prepared a bottle, following the instructions on the formula can. A few minutes later, Violet was happily feeding as well.

Keeley couldn't help but think of the long road ahead. Feeding every two to three hours meant a lot of nursing.

But looking at her children's beautiful faces, she couldn't be upset. They were perfect. She felt an overwhelming love she never thought possible. Her heart swelled every time she saw them.

"Aren't they the most beautiful things you've ever seen?" Aaron asked, echoing her thoughts.

She smiled softly. "They sure are."

He was still focused on Violet when he casually remarked, "I hope they both end up looking like you."

Despite all the sweet talk, he still managed to surprise her. He was increasingly adept at making her feel loved and cherished with his words, clearly making up for lost time.

Since they were together now, they had indeed lost a considerable amount of time—to schemes, communication breakdowns, and other unknown factors. They could have been happy like this all along.

A pang of regret briefly surfaced, but she pushed it aside. The future of their family mattered most. Violet and Kaleb were her priority, and by extension, so was their father.

"Would that really be best, though? You're obviously the better-looking one," she said teasingly.

Aaron blushed slightly, and she reveled in her ability to make him blush. It wasn't frequent, but she occasionally succeeded.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. To be perfectly honest I hope at least one of them looks like you."

Now it was her turn to blush. She hadn't intended to voice that thought, but it was out. Hopefully, he didn't misunderstand; she wasn't being sentimental; he truly was handsome.

Keeley busied herself burping Kaleb, avoiding eye contact. But once the baby settled and began to doze, she scooted closer, their arms touching.

She craved Aaron's proximity; it had become increasingly common since her pregnancy. His presence was comforting, ironic considering the stress he had caused them both.