The Marry-Me Wish by Alison Roberts Read Free Book Online

to be a parent.
    Heroic? Or…selfish?
    Lord, where had that come from? Some pocket of envy because Anne was prepared to do this for someone other than himself? He knew it was unfair. He knew that what he was seeing here was total commitment. The positive side of being black and white.
    He’d experienced that commitment himself. Maybe that was why the thought of Anne being with anyone else had been such a shock. She didn’t do half-measures. She did total commitment and he’d had it in their relationship. He’d known that every time he’d touched her. When she allowed herself to succumb to passion she had given everything she had to give.
    Demanded all from him.
    An explosive mix that had always left them completely satisfied. Drained so that the cares of the world trickled away. Content to the point of utter bliss.
    Nobody else had ever given him that. Or demanded it from him. Not that he’d want to give that much of himself to anyone else. He couldn’t. He’d already given it away.
    To Anne.
    The second baby was emerging now. A girl who looked to be pretty much the same size as her brother. Small but not enough to need special care. She was crying already, sounding healthy.
    The beds were manoeuvred so that this baby could lie on Julia’s stomach cradled by one of each of her parents’ hands as they waited for the cord to stop pulsing before it was cut. For a minute, they were all joined. The babies, their biological parents and their birth mother.
    An incredible family unit. No wonder there were smiles and tears amongst the soft words being spoken as the babies were introduced to each other and the world. Angus was going to be the boy’s name. The girl was Amy.
    Â 
    When Mac cut the cord of the second baby, Anne could have sworn she felt it herself.
    It had been weird lying here, still connected to the tiny girl who was lying on Julia’s stomach. She could see the miracle of this gift in her sister’s face. The wonder and the joy of it. And she could see—and feel—overwhelming love. Between Julia and Mac and between these new parents and their babies. A solid force that she was part of but separate from.
    And then the cord was cut and she felt the separation increase.
    Almost desperately, she scanned what she could see of the twins. Imprinting the memory of their bare skin and crinkled little faces. All those fingers and toes that Mac and Julia were touching in reverence. She wanted to touch them herself.
    To count them, as all new parents did.
    She wanted to hold them and have those serious dark eyes calmly watching her the way these babies, now quiet, were watching Julia. Imprinting their mother’s face on their brains the way she was with them.
    Her breasts ached. Anne was barely aware of what Emily was doing at the end of the bed. The calm voice telling her that the placentas seemed fine and that she hadn’t torn at all and wasn’t it great that she wouldn’t need a single stitch? She was too distracted by pulling advice from her head. The words of the counsellor that had seemed so sensible to all involved at the time.
    Don’t breastfeed, even once, no matter how strong the urge might be. It’s a mistake physically because it will stimulate milk supply and make the drying-up process a lot harder. It will also create an emotional connection that could have repercussions none of you will want.
    They had all been so clear about what they wanted. Anne would love and cherish these babies, of course, but she wasn’t their mother. Julia was. She’d been a human incubator but she was only their aunt. A very special aunt, certainly, but she had to be one step removed. She had to allow Julia and Mac to parent these children without interference or pressure of any kind. For the next few weeks, in fact, she was going to have nothing more than minimal contact while the new family bonded.
    She needed time to recover from the ordeal her