The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 209

Tristan

Three weeks had passed since Adrian and Arianna were born, and every single day felt like a small miracle.

I stood at Adrian's isolette, watching him sleep without any wires attached except for the monitoring leads. No feeding tube. No oxygen support. Just my son, breathing on his own, eating on his own, getting stronger every day.

"He gained another two ounces overnight," the nurse told me, updating his chart. "And Arianna gained three. They're both over five pounds now."

"Five pounds," I repeated, feeling that familiar swell of pride and relief. When they'd been born, Adrian had been four pounds three ounces, Arianna just under four pounds. Every ounce they gained felt like a victory.

"Dr. Chen wants to talk to you both this morning," the nurse added. "She should be by during rounds."

My heart jumped. Talks with the doctor could mean anything—good news, bad news, complications we hadn't anticipated. Even though both babies were doing well, I'd learned not to take anything for granted in the NICU.

Athena arrived a few minutes later, having stopped to pump in the mothers' room. Her milk had come in strong, and she was determined to provide as much breast milk as possible for the twins, even if they had to take it from bottles for now.

"How are they this morning?" she asked, immediately going to check on both babies.

"Good. Really good, actually. Both gained weight overnight."

Her face lit up. "Really? How much?"

I told her, and she actually did a little victory dance right there in the NICU, making me laugh.

"Every ounce is a step closer to bringing them home," she said, reaching into Arianna's isolette to stroke her daughter's soft cheek. "Isn't that right, Ari? You're getting so big and strong."

Arianna stirred at her mother's touch, her tiny mouth making sucking motions in her sleep. She'd been the stronger feeder from the start, always finishing her bottles enthusiastically while Adrian took his time and often needed breaks.

"Dr. Chen wants to talk to us," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Athena's hand stilled on Arianna. "About what?"

"The nurse didn't say. Just that she'd be by during rounds."

I could feel Athena's anxiety spike through our bond. "Do you think something's wrong?"

"I think if something was wrong, they would have called us in the middle of the night," I said reasonably. "It's probably just a routine update."

But we were both on edge as we waited, going through the motions of our morning routine—changing diapers, taking temperatures, talking to the babies about nothing and everything.

Dr. Chen finally appeared around nine, her tablet in hand and a smile on her face that immediately eased some of my tension.

"Good morning," she said warmly. "How are we doing today?"

"Nervous," Athena admitted. "The nurse said you wanted to talk to us."

"I do, but it's good news," Dr. Chen assured us. "Let's sit down."

We moved to the small consultation room off the main NICU, and my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

"Adrian and Arianna have been doing exceptionally well," Dr. Chen started. "Better than we initially expected for thirty-three weekers, honestly. They're both maintaining their body temperature independently. They're both breathing completely on their own with excellent oxygen saturation. They're both taking full feeds by bottle without any residual need for tube feeding."

"That's all good?" Athena asked tentatively.

"That's all very good," Dr. Chen confirmed. "In fact, I think we can start talking about discharge."

The world seemed to stop.

"Discharge?" I repeated. "As in... taking them home?"

"Yes. We typically keep babies until they're close to their original due date, but Adrian and Arianna have met all the criteria for going home early. They're gaining weight consistently, feeding well, maintaining their temperature. There's no medical reason to keep them here longer."

"When?" Athena asked, her voice shaking. "When can we take them home?"

"I'd like to monitor them for a few more days, make sure this weight gain pattern continues. But if all goes well, possibly by the end of this week."

"This week?" I couldn't process it. "That's only four days away."

"I know it seems fast," Dr. Chen said, her expression kind. "And I know the NICU has become familiar, safe. But your babies are ready. They don't need us anymore. They need their parents and their home."

Athena was crying, her hand pressed to her mouth. "I can't believe it. We get to bring them home."

"There will be conditions," Dr. Chen continued. "You'll need to complete infant CPR training, which we can do here. They'll need to stay on monitors at home for the first month, we'll send you home with equipment that tracks their breathing and heart rate. You'll have weekly appointments with their pediatrician for weight checks. And absolutely no visitors who are sick, their immune systems are still developing."

"We can do all of that," I said immediately. "Whatever they need."

"I know you can," Dr. Chen said, smiling. "You've been wonderful parents these past three weeks. Very involved, very attentive. These babies are lucky to have you."

After Dr. Chen left, Athena and I just stood there in the hallway, holding each other, both crying.

"We get to bring them home," she kept saying. "Tristan, we get to bring them home."

"I know, baby. I know."

"I need to call Sarah. And Orion. And we need to make sure the nursery is completely ready. And we need car seats. Do we have car seats? I can't remember if we bought car seats..."

"Athena." I cupped her face in my hands. "Breathe. We have car seats. The nursery is ready. Everything is ready. We've been preparing for this."

"But I thought we had more time," she said, laughing through her tears. "I thought we had at least another month."

"So did I. But our kids are overachievers, apparently."

"Just like their father," she said, reaching up to kiss me.

We spent the rest of the day in the NICU, unable to leave even though we probably should have gone home to rest and prepare.

But how could we leave when our babies were about to come home? When this might be one of our last days in this strange liminal space we'd inhabited for three weeks?

Sarah and Orion came by in the afternoon, bringing Lily and Liam.

"Guess what?" Athena said the moment they walked in, unable to contain her excitement.

"What?" Sarah asked, immediately picking up on her energy.

"They're coming home. This week. Possibly Friday."

Sarah shrieked, actually shrieked, right there in the NICU, causing several nurses to look over with amused expressions.

"Are you serious?" she demanded. "Really coming home?"

"Really," I confirmed. "Dr. Chen said they've met all the criteria. They're ready."

"That's incredible," Orion said, clapping me on the shoulder. "I'm so happy for you both. For all of you."

"Can I hold them?" Lily asked, already moving toward the isolettes. "One more time before they go home?"

"Of course," Athena said.

We spent the next hour passing the babies around. Lily held each twin carefully, singing to them in her sweet six-year-old voice.

Liam, who'd been wary of the babies at first, had warmed up to them and now insisted on touching their hands through the isolette openings whenever he visited.

"Addy and Ari are coming to your house?" he asked me, his three-year-old face serious.

"They are," I confirmed.

"Can I visit them?"

"Every day if you want to," I promised, ruffling his hair.

That evening, after everyone had left and the NICU had quieted down for the night, Athena and I sat between the isolettes like we did every evening.

"I'm scared," Athena admitted quietly. "Is that crazy? I've been desperate to bring them home, and now that it's actually happening, I'm terrified."

"It's not crazy," I assured her. "I'm scared too."