Aiden's Point of View
We’ve been at it all morning, Mark and I crawling around his living room like oversized toddlers, locking cupboards, anchoring furniture, tucking away sharp corners and stray wires. The place smells faintly of calming lavender and baby lotion. In the nursery, I know, Nicole is finishing her masterpiece, she’s been fussing over it for weeks.
She walks out of the room now, a proud glow on her face and that unmistakable joy only soon to be mothers radiate. “Okay, we can go get them now. Everything’s ready, even my surprise in the nursery,” she announces, brushing a loose curl from her face.
Mark and I share a quick glance, he’s nervous, I can see it in the way his jaw tightens.
“Let’s go,” he says, and we head out together, the three of us descending the wide stairs
