Chapter 62 The Twins React to Michael’s Voice for the First Time
895 Words
It happened on an ordinary afternoon.
Which, in Michael Co’s life lately, meant nothing was actually ordinary at all.
Marnie was resting on the couch, half-sitting, half-lying down with pillows supporting her back and sides. The afternoon sun filtered softly through the curtains, painting the living room in warm gold. Her feet were slightly swollen, her back a little sore, and her patience thinner than usual—but she was content.
Michael, meanwhile, was pacing.
Again.
She watched him from the corner of her eye, amused and slightly exasperated.
“Michael,” she said gently. “You’ve walked from the window to the kitchen fourteen times.”
He stopped mid-step. “I’m thinking.”
“That’s what you said five laps ago.”
“I’m thinking about the babies.”
“That doesn’t require cardio.”
He ignored her and walked closer, crouching beside her. His eyes softened immediately when he looked at her belly, now round and full, undeniably carrying two little lives.
“Are they moving?” he asked.
“Not much today,” she replied. “They’ve been quiet since lunch.”
Michael frowned.
Quiet was not his favorite word.
“Quiet how?” he asked carefully. “Normal quiet or suspicious quiet?”
She sighed. “Normal quiet, Doctor.”
He placed a gentle hand on her belly. “Hello?” he said softly. “It’s Papa.”
Nothing.
He leaned closer. “Babies? It’s me.”
Still nothing.
Marnie smirked. “Maybe they’re sleeping.”
Michael straightened, offended. “They sleep when I’m talking?”
She laughed. “Maybe they don’t like pacing lectures.”
“I do not lecture.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He paused. “…I mildly instruct.”
She reached for his hand. “Michael, relax. They’ve been active all week. It’s okay.”
He nodded, but his eyes stayed fixed on her belly.
Then, without realizing it, he began to speak—not in his usual firm, controlled tone, but in a low, gentle voice meant only for her.
“You know,” he said quietly, “your mother has been powerful today. She walked more than she should have. She smiled even when she was tired.”
Marnie blinked.
He continued, unaware of the change in her expression.
“She’s taking care of you so well. And I need you to take care of her, too. Just a little. I know you’re small, but you’re already important.”
Her throat tightened.
Michael rested his palm more fully against her belly. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here.”
And then—
THUMP.
Marnie gasped.
Michael froze.
Another kick followed. Stronger. Deliberate.
Then another.
His eyes widened. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself closer, his hand still pressed against her stomach.
“Did… did you feel that?” he whispered.
She nodded, breathless. “They’re responding.”
Almost on cue, her belly shifted—one side, then the other.
Michael’s breath caught.
“They’re moving toward my voice,” he said in disbelief.
He spoke again, softer now, almost reverent.
“Hello, my little ones.”
THUMP. THUD.
Marnie laughed softly, tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh my God, Michael… they know you.”
He swallowed hard.
“They recognize me,” he whispered.
“They’ve heard you every day,” she said gently. “You talk to them constantly. You just didn’t notice.”
Michael pressed his forehead against her belly, completely undone.
“I’m your father,” he said quietly. “I might not be perfect, but I will protect you. I will protect your mother. I promise.”
The response was immediate.
A long, rolling movement. Then a kick so firm it made both of them gasp.
Marnie grabbed his arm. “That one was strong.”
Michael laughed breathlessly, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s my child.”
“Both of them are,” she teased.
He lifted his head, eyes shining. “They listen to me.”
“They love you,” she corrected softly.
Michael sat beside her and pulled her gently into his chest, one arm wrapping around her shoulders, the other still resting on her belly.
“I’ve spoken to thousands of patients,” he said quietly. Comforted them. Reassured them. But this…”
He looked down again.
“This is different.”
She leaned into him. “You’re different with them.”
He nodded. “Because I’m terrified.”
She smiled. “You’re allowed to be.”
“I’m terrified of failing them,” he admitted. “Of not being enough.”
She tilted her head up to look at him. “Michael… you’re already enough. Look at them. They respond to you. They feel safe.”
He kissed her forehead, lingering there longer than usual.
“Then I’ll spend my life proving that safety wasn’t misplaced,” he whispered.
Another soft kick followed, almost gentle this time.
Marnie laughed quietly. “I think they approve.”
Michael smiled—slow, emotional, unguarded.
“They’re already choosing sides,” he said fondly.
“Don’t start,” she warned playfully.
He chuckled and kissed her again, his hand warm and steady on her belly.
Outside, the city moved on—cars, noise, endless motion.
Inside their home, something extraordinary had happened.
The twins had heard their father’s voice.
And they had answered.
- Writer
