Evelyn’s Log: It’s 14 Weeks In—This Sonogram Should Be the Big News (Reynolds Better Be There or Fuckery Will Ensue)

  Date: [The Moment of Truth]

  Log ID: Evelyn Kerensky-Reynolds (I swear to everything holy, if Reynolds misses this, I will end him.)

  I am 14 weeks pregnant.

  Which means today is the day.

  The big appointment.

  The one where we finally find out whether we’re having a boy or a girl.

  And my darling husband had better be there.

  Or I am redecorating the house with his internal organs.

  Phase One: The Pre-Appointment Tension

  Reynolds has been ridiculously involved in every single moment of this pregnancy.

  ? Panicked when I sneezed too hard.

  ? Started carrying snacks everywhere in case I got hungry.

  ? Woke up twice last night to make sure I wasn’t “in distress.”

  ? Is designing a backup backup emergency birth plan, just in case.

  And yet—

  Somehow—

  There is still a non-zero chance that he gets called away at the last minute.

  Because the universe hates me.

  And because he is the single most important person in intergalactic diplomacy right now.

  But if he even thinks about missing this?

  I will become an intergalactic incident.

  Phase Two: The “Subtle” Reminders

  This morning, I made it very clear that today was not a day for heroics.

  "Reynolds, what are you doing today?"

  "Going to the sonogram with you, of course."

  "And what are you not doing today?"

  "…Getting distracted by existential threats to reality?"

  "Good man."

  But just to be sure—

  I enlisted backup.

  ? Goldie is on alert to physically drag him to the appointment if necessary.

  ? Vicky is keeping an eye on the Galactic Council to block any “urgent” meetings.

  ? Bandit has placed bets on whether or not he’ll make it, which means he will now actively sabotage anyone trying to stop Reynolds from getting there.

  I have planned for every contingency.

  He is going to be in that room.

  Or war will begin.

  Phase Three: The Appointment Begins

  I am lying on the exam table.

  The tech is setting up the sonogram.

  And miraculously—

  Reynolds is here.

  Sitting right next to me, gripping my hand like he’s about to get launched into space.

  "You okay over there?" I ask.

  "I’m fine. Totally fine. Just, you know. Reality-altering moment. My entire life is about to change."

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  "Oh, now it’s hitting you?"

  "I was distracted by the war!"

  "Uh-huh."

  The tech laughs, clearly used to dealing with stressed-out parents.

  "Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here."

  The screen flickers.

  The image appears.

  And then—

  Then we see them.

  And my husband

  absolutely loses it.

  Phase Four: Reynolds Has a Meltdown

  "Oh. Oh, shit."

  I turn to him.

  "Reynolds. WHAT."

  His eyes are huge.

  His grip on my hand tightens.

  He just keeps staring at the screen, muttering to himself.

  "No. No, that’s—oh my God. I’m not ready. I’m not ready."

  "Reynolds, what the hell are you talking ab—"

  The tech clears her throat.

  "Ahem. So… would you like to know the sex of your babies?"

  And my brain short-circuits.

  Phase Five: THE BABIES. PLURAL.

  "I’m sorry. What."

  The tech smiles.

  "Oh, didn’t you know? You’re having twins!"

  Silence.

  Utter, deafening silence.

  Then—

  Bandit bursts into the room, cackling.

  "I WIN THE BET! PAY UP, LOSERS!"

  Phase Six: The Fallout

  ? I am having twins.

  ? Reynolds is in full existential crisis mode.

  ? **Goldie is nodding approvingly. **

  ? Vicky is smirking like she knew this was coming.

  ? Bandit is rolling in imaginary money, celebrating.

  And me?

  I am going to kill my husband.

  Because he must have done this.

  Somehow.

  Some way.

  Because of course reality itself would decide that one child wasn’t enough.

  I turn to him.

  "Reynolds."

  He slowly looks at me.

  "Did you do this?"

  "HOW WOULD I HAVE DONE THIS?!"

  I narrow my eyes.

  "Reynolds. You have literally rewritten reality before. You have killed gods. Are you sure you didn’t accidentally will extra babies into existence?"

  He makes a helpless noise, still staring at the screen.

  "…I mean, I thought about it."

  "OH MY GOD, YOU DID THIS."

  "I DON’T KNOW THAT."

  "YOU DON’T KNOW THAT?!"

  Goldie chuckles.

  "This is a fine day. More strong offspring for the pack."

  Vicky laughs.

  "You do realize this means double the trouble, yes?"

  Bandit throws his arms in the air.

  "MY BOY REYNOLDS FINALLY BREEDS AND HE ROLLS A DOUBLE SUCCESS!"

  I grab a pillow and throw it at him.

  "GET OUT."

  Final Thoughts (I Am Going to Need So Much Therapy)

  ? I am having twins.

  ? My husband is losing his mind.

  ? Bandit made actual money off my uterus.

  ? Goldie and Vicky are too entertained by this.

  ? I may have married a reality-warping madman who somehow manifested more children into existence by accident.

  I don’t know how I am going to survive this pregnancy.

  But I do know this—

  Reynolds is never allowed to think things into existence again. Ever.

  End Log.