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My husband grunts before setting his hands on my shoulders and catching my gaze in the mirror.

“How do you keep getting more beautiful?”

I roll my eyes at him.

“It’s a serious question. I really thought there would be nothing better than seeing you pregnant with my children, but no, seeing you hold them nearly undoes me every time. I don’t know what I’m going to do in February when I have to report to spring training camp. I feel like a doomsday clock is ticking in my chest.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” I say, standing and turning. Shane’s hands skirt down my arms, his fingers careful not to knock my tubeless insulin pump. “What if we went with you?”

Shane doesn’t answer me, just wraps his arms around me.

“You and the girls…” His voice sounds like twisted metal. “You’re my whole world, Willow. I love you so much. I can’t—”

When his words crack, I wrap my arms around Shane, hugging him back. “I love you too.”

We stand there for a long time, subtly rocking, before Colton’s voice rings out in our penthouse.

“Who’s ready to party?”

Shane groans. “I regret this decision.”

“I like that you wanted to have everyone here for the New Year,” I say, leaning back to catch his gaze. “Very benevolent grump of you.”

“I’m going to be a murder grump if Colton wakes the babies.”

I wave a hand. “That’s what the very capable nannies are for.”

After Shane’s uncharacteristic suggestion to invite everyone over for a New Year’s Eve party, he went into overdrive, organizing everything. We have an entire kitchen staff at Gabriel’s command, multiple servers, two bartenders, and the aforementioned nannies—plural, because one wasn’t enough. Our home was cleaned by our housecleaning service earlier this week, and a professional decorator gave every surface a bedazzle treatment yesterday.

“I also moved furniture around so that you could sit in a comfortable armchair in every room. I don’t want you on your feet for too long.”

“Yes, sir.” I give him a playful wink.

His responding growl sends shivers down my spine before we go to meet our guests.

In addition to our Waves family, Mr. Fields and his adult children join us. A few of my artist friends also come, including Nina, the painter whom I was supposed to work with when I first moved here. Over the years, we’ve become colleagues, getting together once a month to complain about spending six hours shading something that no one will ever notice.

When our daughters wake from their nap, Shane and I bring them to see the guests. Everyone gushes over their matching New Baby, New Year onesies paired with sparkly black leggings.

Shane makes sure I rest and that I eat enough while gruffly engaging with his teammates and politely chatting with Mr. Fields.

After being parked on the couch for the better part of an hour, surrounded by Delilah, Kenzie, Alex, and Mallory, I notice Shane is missing.

“I’ll be right back.”

The music follows me into the babies’ room before I shut the door. All the lights are off except for the warm-toned night light scattering stars across the far wall. My husband stands in front of Iris’s crib, elbows on the top railing.

“I was tired of people.”

My hand slides up his muscled back before I massage his neck. “They’re people.”

Both our girls are in one crib, swaddled separately but nestled together.

“My favorite people.”

My exhale is long and peaceful. “It’s such a simple thing—sleep. Nothing is happening beside their lungs filtering air, yet I could watch them for hours.”

“The ordinary moments are the most important ones.”