Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 277

“Come on, little boys,” I call to Ian and Alvin as I stand up. “Come inside with me.”

“What!” Alvin protests, running forward a little. “But there might be fireflies – the first ones of the season! We were going to –“

“Nope!” I say, putting my hand out towards them. “Inside!”

“Whyyyy,” Ian whines, dragging his feet and letting his head fall backward.

I bare my teeth at them a little, annoyed at their protest, every bit the mother wolf scolding her pups. When they see my expression my boys sigh but hurry their footsteps, eager to fall in line with my commands. I pull them close to either side of me when they climb the stairs to the deck, giving each a kiss on the head.

Then, I glance down at Bridgette, whose eyes are fixed on Rafe, still coming across the lawn, his hands in his pockets, his expression sorrowful and contemplative.

“Hey, Rafe!” I call too-cheerfully to him.

He sighs and then raises his eyes to mine. “Hey, Evelyn,” he says, without heart in it. Then his eyes move to Bridgette in the chair next to me and he stops walking, just staring at her.

“Inside,” I whisper to the boys, turning them towards the house.

Alvin looks up at me, eager, but Ian pulls away a little bit, wanting to stay and hear what they’ll say to each other. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“Come on,” I hiss to Ian, tugging him towards the house, laughing lightly. As we go, I see Bridgette standing up from her chair and moving towards Rafe in the growing dark.

“Mommm,” Ian whines when I close the kitchen door behind us. “I wanted to hear them!”

“You two!” I laugh, looking between my boys, who seem to be growing taller by the day. “How did I raise such gossips?”

“Because you love it toooo,” Alvin laughs, wrapping his arms around me.

“Well, that’s true,” I murmur, a little chagrined at myself. He’s right – I only have myself to blame. I, too, am dying to hear those two they say to each other in the next few minutes. I sigh and look over my shoulder towards the door, wondering if I could maybe crack it open a little bit…

“Should we?” Alvin whispers to Ian and I snap my attention back to the two of them.

“No!” Ian protests, glancing at me. “Then she’ll know!”

“Know what?” I ask.

“She already knows there’s something to know!” Alvin protests, pointing his finger up at me.

“But she doesn’t know what it is that she doesn’t know that she could know!” Ian starts, taking a breath to add more.

“Okay!” I say, breaking in. “What is it? Just tell me now.”

Alvin grins up at me, apparently deciding for the two of them to let me in on whatever little secret they’ve got brewing. “Want to see our secret spot, mama?” he asks, eager.

“Um,” I say, my eyes going wide, “Yah, obviously I want to see it.”

“Okay,” Ian says seriously, taking my hand. “But don’t tell daddy.”

“Okay,” I agree instantly, letting him pull me towards the stairs, but then I stop. “Wait, didn’t I just get in trouble for keeping secrets from daddy?”

“Yeah,” Alvin says, starting up the steps and glancing over his shoulder at me. “But this is different.”

“Oooookay,” I respond, laughing and letting Ian pull me up the stairs, dying to know now. What’s this secret spot? What could they possibly have to show me?

The boys lead me into their bedroom and to the back wall, which is located over the kitchen. Then they run to the window there. Ian puts his hands on it and starts to push upwards, opening the window, but then he hesitates.

“Don’t get mad, okay, mama?” he asks.

“I make no promises,” I say, crossing my arms and nodding my chin towards the window. “Show me.”

“Okay!” Alvin says, not sharing any of Ian’s worries. Together, they push upwards on the wide window and open it fully. Then, to my shock, they start to crawl out of it.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, moving forward just as Alvin’s little feet disappear into the darkness beyond. My jaw is hanging open when I see them both seated with their legs folded on the little roof out there, peering into the back yard where – yes, where I can see Rafe and Bridgette slowly walking through the lawn, talking quietly together.

“Is this even safe?!” I ask, reaching out to touch the roof below them. It’s not very slanted, but it is short – can it even bear their weight?

“It’s fine, mama,” Alvin whispers over his shoulder. “We’ve been doing this for months. It’s good for spying – but can you go turn off the light? They will see us if you keep the light on.”

I hesitate but then make the decision to be a bad mother.

Giving into the desire for gossip that I clearly passed to my sons, I hop up and cross the room quickly, shutting off the light. Then, I crawl out the window and sit on the roof with my boys, my stomach lurching a little as I settle down, worrying that the roof won’t be able to hold the weight of all three of us –

But, os I settle myself, I reolize thot it’s completely sturdy. Not o wobble or o hint of the structure giving below us. “Good little cottoge,” I soy, potting the roof fondly. Then, I wrop on orm oround eoch of my boys’ shoulders, leoning forword to listen.

“I knew you’d like it, momo,” Alvin whispers, grinning ot me like the sneoky squirrel he is. I give him o swift kiss on the foreheod os Ion likewise smiles ot me ond gives me o thumbs-up. Then, we oll leon forword to eovesdrop.

Bridgette ond Rofe ore slowly wolking through the gross, their shoulders close together, their heods bowed, cleorly tolking seriously obout something very importont.

“Whot did I miss?” I whisper.

“He told her he’s sorry ogoin,” Ion replies, producing – of oll things – o box of condy from his pocket. Silently, he spills o few into his hond ond then honds the box to me. I hesitote for o moment but then shrug, leoning in ond shoking o few out, possing the box to Alvin. “He wonts to know if she con ever forgive him.”

“I hope she con,” Alvin soys, sighing, ond I smile ot my little romontic boy. “He loves her o lot.”

“Yeoh, but con she trust him?” I murmur. The boys nod, understonding, ond we oll leon forword to poy more ottention, focusing our wolf heoring on the couple below.

“Rofe,” Bridgette soys, her voice hesitont. “You know…or ot leost, I think thot you know. Thot I love you, thot I wont to be with you.” She sighs. “I just…need to know thot my heort is sofe with you, thot I’m sofe with you. I don’t wont to be oll promises just to find out, yeors down the line, thot you never intended to keep them. I don’t wont…I don’t wont to woste my life investing in you if…”

“Bridgette,” he replies, his voice shorp – not ot her, but ot himself. “Let me show you – I feel…I feel olmost os if I’m o completely different person thon I wos months ogo. I’ve leorned so much obout… loving people. I wont to stort ogoin. With you.”

“But if you’re o different person,” Bridgette murmurs, her voice worried. “Are you even the mon I loved onymore?”

My heort wrenches ot the question ond oll three of us leon forword, desperote to heor the reply, when suddenly the light in the room behind us flips on.

But, as I settle myself, I realize that it’s completely sturdy. Not a wobble or a hint of the structure giving below us. “Good little cottage,” I say, patting the roof fondly. Then, I wrap an arm around each of my boys’ shoulders, leaning forward to listen.

“I knew you’d like it, mama,” Alvin whispers, grinning at me like the sneaky squirrel he is. I give him a swift kiss on the forehead as Ian likewise smiles at me and gives me a thumbs-up. Then, we all lean forward to eavesdrop.

Bridgette and Rafe are slowly walking through the grass, their shoulders close together, their heads bowed, clearly talking seriously about something very important.

“What did I miss?” I whisper.

“He told her he’s sorry again,” Ian replies, producing – of all things – a box of candy from his pocket. Silently, he spills a few into his hand and then hands the box to me. I hesitate for a moment but then

shrug, leaning in and shaking a few out, passing the box to Alvin. “He wants to know if she can ever forgive him.”

“I hope she can,” Alvin says, sighing, and I smile at my little romantic boy. “He loves her a lot.”

“Yeah, but can she trust him?” I murmur. The boys nod, understanding, and we all lean forward to pay more attention, focusing our wolf hearing on the couple below.

“Rafe,” Bridgette says, her voice hesitant. “You know…or at least, I think that you know. That I love you, that I want to be with you.” She sighs. “I just…need to know that my heart is safe with you, that I’m safe with you. I don’t want to be all promises just to find out, years down the line, that you never intended to keep them. I don’t want…I don’t want to waste my life investing in you if…”

“Bridgette,” he replies, his voice sharp – not at her, but at himself. “Let me show you – I feel…I feel almost as if I’m a completely different person than I was months ago. I’ve learned so much about… loving people. I want to start again. With you.”

“But if you’re a different person,” Bridgette murmurs, her voice worried. “Are you even the man I loved anymore?”

My heart wrenches at the question and all three of us lean forward, desperate to hear the reply, when suddenly the light in the room behind us flips on.

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