The Home Stretch

Thalia

"How are you holding up today, Thalia?" Dr. Beckett asked warmly while I shifted my weight onto the exam table.

"The usual. Nauseous, aching, and massive." I made a face, resting a protective palm over my stretched stomach. At eight months along with triplets, basic routines like pulling on clothes felt like an uphill battle.

Dr. Beckett let out a warm laugh. "You're almost at the finish line. Just hold on a little longer."

I offered him a grateful smile. Over the past several months, Beckett had become a genuine friend, steering me through the rough patches of pregnancy with real kindness. Coming here was the sole bright spot in my otherwise bleak routine.

Once he confirmed all three boys were healthy and developing right on track, Beckett walked me toward the door. I winced, struggling to lever my heavy body off the edge of the table.

"Easy there," Beckett said, catching my elbow to keep me steady. "There's nothing wrong with letting someone help you."

"I know. I just hate feeling this helpless and needy."

Warmth and understanding filled his brown eyes. "I can't even begin to imagine how tough this is on you, Thalia. Still, you're handling it with incredible courage. Those boys are lucky to call you their mother."

The compliment brought a wave of warmth to my chest. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surviving any of this without you."

Every word of that was true. I had zero backup anywhere else, neither with money nor with someone to lean on. My shifts at the little café barely paid for rent and food, while the clinic charges were sky-high. Yet because Beckett quietly adjusted the details on my forms, I got approved for aid programs that picked up whatever insurance left behind. He had even passed along used baby gear from his sister. My gratitude knew no bounds.

Bright afternoon sunlight greeted us as we stepped outside the clinic, a rare treat in constantly damp Ash Hollow. Beckett checked his watch. "My next patient just canceled. Feel like getting some lunch?"

My immediate impulse was to say no. Lately, I despised letting people in town see me waddling down the street, huge and clumsy. Still, Beckett's offer was too thoughtful to turn down.

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

We slid into a corner booth inside the Morningstar Café. For some reason, the aroma of roasted coffee and fresh pastries turned my stomach these days. Playing it safe, I asked for plain toast and a cup of mint tea.

"So, we're down to the final stretch. Give or take three weeks left?" Beckett asked.

"Pretty much. I'll be relieved once these little guys finally vacate the premises."

Beckett laughed. "I don't blame you. Stay strong, mama. You're nearly at the end."

Taking a slow sip of my warm mint tea, I hesitated before looking up at him. "Do you honestly believe I can pull this off? Raising three infants completely by myself?"

The humor faded from Beckett's face as he grew serious. "It's going to be rough. Being a new parent always is. Even so, Thalia, I don't have a single doubt that you can handle it."

His confidence broke through the heavy gloom weighing on me. A watery smile tugged at my lips. "Thanks. The stress is just getting to me lately, you know? Their father... he isn't around."

Reaching across the table, Beckett gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Listen. Don't allow worries over tomorrow to ruin what you have today. Take it one day at a time, and keep relying on the people in your corner." He motioned between the two of us. "You aren't doing this by yourself."

As my due date crept closer, I held tight to that promise, doing my best to calm my anxious thoughts. Yet when labor hit two weeks ahead of schedule, sheer panic nearly took me under.

At 5:17 a.m. on a rainy Tuesday, my water broke. After the sudden warm gush between my thighs, I lay frozen on the mattress for a full minute. It was actually happening.

Scribbling a quick note for my manager, I called a cab to rush me straight to the clinic. Every contraction tore through my abdomen like sharp claws ripping from the inside out. I tried to focus on the breathing exercises from birthing class, though all I could manage was a pained whimper.

When the taxi pulled up outside the clinic, I stumbled through the front doors in a frantic haze. A nurse hurried me straight back toward the delivery room while other tired pregnant women—sitting calmly beside their attentive partners—sent odd glances my way.

"My babies are coming!" I cried out, the words half-yelp and half-sob.

To my immense relief, Beckett was already inside getting things ready. His steady presence settled over me right away. "You're doing wonderfully, Thalia. Just focus on breathing."

Several grueling hours blurred together in a fog of searing pain, hot tears, and Beckett's steady coaching. When a baby's sharp cry finally rang out across the room, pure joy washed over me. My first son was here.

His two loud brothers arrived right behind him. Three matching round faces, red and squirming. I had never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.

"They're perfect," I breathed in pure awe. "Completely perfect."

That evening, I did my best to hold all three infants at once. Managing diapers and feedings with just two hands proved tricky. Still, feeling their tiny bodies pressed against mine filled me with fierce devotion and drive. Even with their father out of the picture, they would always have me.

A soft tap sounded against the door before Beckett stepped inside carrying balloons and a massive arrangement of pink roses.

"Special delivery for the new mom," he announced, grinning warmly at the three babies tucked against my chest. "Congratulations, Thalia. They really are gorgeous."

"Thank you." I gave him an exhausted smile. "For all of it."

After helping me settle the newborns into the bassinet, Beckett brought over a hot meal from the cafeteria.

"Have you settled on names yet?" he asked.

"Mmhmm. Say hello to Zane, Jace, and Wyatt." I tapped a finger lightly near each baby as I introduced them.

Those were the exact names Kaelen and I had picked out for our future children back when we were kids, never imagining I would one day use them on my own. Back then, we used to spend hours planning the family we would build together.

A sharp ache rose in my chest. Blinking hard, I forced back the moisture stinging my eyes. Today was supposed to be happy. I refused to let thoughts of him ruin it.

Throughout the following week, the nursing staff walked me through infant care basics while my body healed. With their nonstop demands, my soft-haired trio kept me occupied day and night. Even so, I treasured every second. Every toothless grin and drowsy yawn made my heart swell.

When a bright Tuesday afternoon rolled around, I finally brought my sons home. My tiny apartment had been converted into a cramped nursery with cribs wedged into every spare corner. The setup was far from perfect, though it would have to do.

Our first night home turned into total pandemonium. The second one infant drifted off, his brother would wake up screaming. Moving through a sleep-deprived fog, I bounced from crib to crib, shushing cries and patting tiny backs. Nobody got a single hour of rest.

By some miracle, I made it through my shift the following day with all three needy helpers attached to me. Café patrons fawned over the identical caramel-haired infants strapped to my chest in fabric wraps. Managing the three of them solo was a complete three-ring circus, though strong coffee and sheer willpower got me through.

Bone-deep fatigue quickly turned into my normal way of life. Every two a.m. bottle, messy diaper disaster, and screaming bath time chipped away at my energy. My energetic wolf pups possessed endless stamina and remarkably strong lungs. More than once, I felt a painful longing for Kaelen to step in, or even just for a solid block of unbroken sleep.

Whenever the days grew especially brutal, Dr. Beckett served as my anchor. He dropped by often to examine the triplets, usually showing up with extra packs of diapers or a warm home-cooked dinner. Having his steady hugs and someone to talk to kept me grounded through the madness.

One night, he walked in to find me crying from pure exhaustion. All three babies were wailing out of sync while I slumped in defeat on the sofa, my top stained with sour formula and spit-up.

Without saying a word, Beckett scooped up two of the crying infants and settled them against his broad chest, swaying and shushing softly until their wails died down. Before long, the third brother quieted down right along with them. The sudden silence in the room felt almost overwhelming. I let out a shaky, hiccuping breath.

"There now," Beckett spoke softly to the infants. "You guys just wanted a bit of extra comfort tonight, didn't you?"

Watching my friend hold my sons with such gentle care broke the last shred of control I was holding onto. Dropping my face into my palms, I sobbed openly.

Beckett sat down next to me right away, draping a steady arm across my shoulders.

"Shh, it's okay. Let it all out."

"I can't keep doing this," I gasped through my tears. "I'm not enough for the three of them. They need so much more than I can give."

"Hey. Look at me." Though his tone stayed soft, there was no room for argument in Beckett's voice. Sniffling hard, I lifted my head to meet his eyes.

"You're an incredible mom, Thalia. Truly the best any kid could ever hope to have. Still, nobody is meant to tackle this entirely by themselves. Putting on some superhuman act of perfection is only going to wear you and the boys down."

Taking a trembling breath, I gave a slow nod as his point registered.

"Allow yourself to reach out when things get too heavy—whether that's to me or to people around town. You don't need to shoulder the entire load alone. Give me your word?"

"I promise," I breathed out. And I truly meant every word. My friend had a point; pretending I could handle everything solo was wearing me down to nothing.

Starting that very night, I opened the door for others to help care for me and the triplets. Mothers around the neighborhood shared outgrown clothes and traded babysitting hours.

At the café, my manager adjusted my shifts to give me a much more flexible routine.

Meanwhile, Dr. Beckett wove himself into the fabric of our small household in ways I could never pay back. We remained an unorthodox little group, yet having people who cared made the weight much easier to carry.

Before long, drawing on my natural gifts as a healer omega, I made a fresh resolution to turn myself into a capable, independent woman.

I was going to become a doctor.

Years slipped past in a fast-moving montage of birthday cakes, wobbly first steps, scraped knees, elementary school pageants, and nightly storybooks.

Much of that time went toward studying human medicine.

Because of my innate healer instincts, the material came naturally to me, allowing me to ace my exams without trouble.

In every class, I stayed well ahead of my fellow students.

At home, my rowdy wolf pups kept me constantly moving with their endless stamina and sharp curiosity.

Even so, they packed my days with a deep sense of happiness and drive I never knew existed.

I made a vow to leave Kaelen in the past, pouring everything I had into raising our three wonderful boys in a safe, loving home while building a successful career as a physician.