Instant Parents with My Enemy

Chapter 03

Jasmine's POV

“Just meet me at the facility. Wait for me there if you get there first,” I told him, stepping ahead before he could respond.

I headed toward the curb and raised my hand, hoping to flag down a cab. I barely took two steps before I heard footsteps behind me.

Of course, Nate.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled.

I glanced over my shoulder.

“Waiting for a ride. Isn't it obvious?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don't start with me, Jasmine.”

Then stop asking stupid questions.

Before I could say it out loud, he gestured toward the parking lot.

“Get in. I brought my car.” I stared at him. “We can pick them up together.”

My eyebrows shot up.

Is he out of his mind?

The last time Nate and I had been trapped in a space that small together was six years ago. And that hadn't exactly ended well. With the way we fought, I wouldn't be surprised if he drove us straight into a wall out of sheer frustration.

I wasn't ready to die young.

“I’m fine,” I said firmly. “Stop playing the nice guy, Nate.”

“I’m not playing anything,” he fired back, his voice dripping with irritation. “The twins are expecting both of us. I don't want to deal with them asking where you are if I show up alone.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Then stopped; he had a point. An annoying, irritatingly reasonable point. Still, the absolute last thing I wanted was to be trapped alone with him inside a moving vehicle.

I stared at him, waiting for him to take back the offer. He didn't. He simply stood there, staring at me as if he already knew I was going to give in.

I sighed. “Fine.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Was that so hard?”

“Don't push your luck.”

I walked past him toward his car. He followed. Within minutes, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Nate's car, staring out the window while he drove toward the temporary care facility.

The silence between us was unbearable. It was almost funny.

We could spend an entire birthday party arguing over who brought the better presents, but now that we actually had something serious to talk about, neither of us knew what to say. I finally broke the silence.

“So, what's your plan after this?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I don't know yet.”

I looked at him.

“You don't know?”

“No.” He paused. “But one thing's for sure.” His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel. “They aren't staying in that place.”

I turned toward the window again. At least we agreed on that.

“What if we try to track down Jerry's sister?” I suggested. “You remember her, don't you?”

“Barely.”

“Do you remember which province she lives in?”

He shook his head.

“No.”

I frowned.

“Then I'll find out.” He glanced at me briefly. “I can travel there myself and talk to her. You already have enough on your plate with your work.”

Nate didn't respond.

I continued, “If she really is Jerry's sister, maybe she'd be willing to take them. They'd at least be with family.”

The silence returned. But this time, it felt different. He wasn't arguing with me. He wasn't making some sarcastic comment. He wasn't even looking at me. His eyes remained fixed on the road, his jaw clenched tightly as if he were deep in thought.

I watched him for a moment.

“Nate?”

Nothing.

“Nate.”

He finally glanced at me. “What?”

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

“Then say something.”

His eyes returned to the road. “I don't think it's going to work.”

“Why?”

He was silent for another few seconds.

Then he spoke. “Because if Jerry had wanted his sister to raise his kids, he would've put her name in the will.”

I frowned.

“But maybe he didn't have a choice.”

“Maybe.”

His voice was quiet. Then his grip tightened around the steering wheel.

“But we can't build their future around a maybe.”

I stared at him. That wasn't the answer I expected. For once, he wasn't being difficult. He wasn't trying to get out of something. He sounded... serious... almost protective.

I looked away.

Maybe there was more to Nate than I wanted to admit. Or maybe grief was simply making both of us act like people we didn't recognize.

The facility was only a few minutes away. Neither of us spoke again, but one question kept circling through my head. If Nate really didn't want to raise the twins… then why did he sound like he was already preparing to keep them?

*****

“Mama!” Kitty's cry echoed through the room.

The moment we stepped inside, she ran straight toward me. I barely had time to react before I dropped to my knees and caught her in my arms. Her little body trembled against mine as she buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed.

“Oh, baby,” I whispered, holding her tighter. “I'm here. Mama Jas is here.”

Keith walked quietly toward Nate. Without hesitation, Nate bent down and lifted him into his arms.

The sight almost made me forget that this was the same man I had spent years arguing with. He didn't say anything. He simply held Keith close.

One of the social workers hurried toward us, relief washing over her face.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am, sir,” she said apologetically. “They've been crying ever since they arrived. They kept asking for their Mama Jas and Papa Nate.”

My heart clenched. I looked down at Kitty. Her little nose was bright red, her cheeks were damp with tears, and her chest rose and fell unevenly as she struggled to catch her breath. Guilt washed over me.

I knew it wasn't my fault. I knew I hadn't abandoned her. It had only been a few hours.

But seeing her like this made me feel as though I had failed her somehow.

“Mama...” Kitty whimpered, clutching the front of my shirt. “I really want my Mommy.”

My chest tightened. I closed my eyes for a second. What was I supposed to tell her? The twins knew about the accident. We'd done our best to explain what had happened as gently as we could, but they were only four.

They understood that their parents were gone. They just didn't understand that gone meant forever. They didn't understand why everyone kept crying. They didn't understand why they couldn't go home.

They didn't understand why Mommy and Daddy weren't there to tuck them into bed. They only knew that they wanted their parents. And I wanted my best friend back, too.

My throat burned. “I know, baby,” I whispered, gently stroking her hair. “I know you miss Mommy.”

She nodded against my shoulder.

“Can we go home?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

I looked toward the social worker.

“We're taking them home now.” She nodded sympathetically. “Of course. You'll just need to sign here and log the time.”

She handed me a clipboard and carefully walked me through the standard checkout procedures. Nate stayed beside us the entire time, Keith still resting quietly against his chest. Neither of us said a word; there was nothing to say.

Once the paperwork was completed, we carried the twins outside. Kitty's sobs had eventually faded into quiet hiccups, while Keith remained unusually silent in Nate's arms.

He stared blankly into the distance. It broke my heart. These were children who, a month ago, had been celebrating their fourth birthday. Now they had just buried their parents.

Their entire world had been turned upside down, and somehow, we were supposed to convince them that everything would be okay.

I wasn't sure I believed that myself. Nate opened the back door of his car.

“Sit in the back,” he said quietly. “You can keep an eye on both of them.”

I looked at him. He didn't even wait for my response. He simply opened the door and stepped aside.

I climbed into the back seat and settled myself between the two booster seats.

Kitty immediately curled against my side. Keith sat quietly beside her. I pulled both of them close. For the first time since we'd arrived, neither child cried. They were exhausted.

Within minutes, Kitty's eyelids began to droop. Her tiny fingers were still wrapped around my sleeve when she finally fell asleep. Keith followed shortly after.

I gently adjusted the blanket over both of them and leaned back against the seat. The car was completely silent, no arguing, no sarcastic remarks, and no competition.

Just the quiet hum of the engine and the soft breathing of two sleeping children. I lifted my eyes and stared at Nate's reflection in the rearview mirror.

His expression was unreadable. His hands remained firmly on the steering wheel. For once, I didn't know what he was thinking.

Maybe he was as terrified as I was. Maybe he was already regretting the promise he'd made. Or maybe he was trying to figure out how the hell two people like us were supposed to become parents.

I broke the silence. “We really need to call the lawyer tomorrow,” I whispered, careful not to wake the kids. “We have to figure out how this setup is actually going to work.”

Nate's eyes met mine through the mirror.

“Yeah.”

Just one word.

But somehow, it sounded heavier than anything he'd said all day. I looked down at the twins.

Their faces were peaceful now, completely unaware of the impossible situation waiting for them.

Then I looked back at Nate.

“So... where are we taking them?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then his answer made my stomach drop.

“Home.”

I frowned.

“Whose home?”

His eyes met mine in the mirror again.

“That's what we need to figure out.”

I stared at him.

Because suddenly, I realized something neither of us had considered. Neither of us had a home that was ready for two four-year-olds.