“It’s pretty gnarly, right?” Marty says, smiling at her. “Pregnancy and birth. The female body goes through so many changes during the months before birth. And we want to be able to give that joy to others.” He narrows his eyes as he looks at us. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we wanted a kid,” I say. Because obviously.

“Is that it?”

Otter’s arm tightens around me. “Partially,” he says. “But it’s also—we had a strange family growing up. Things weren’t always easy. For us. For others. Mistakes were made. Bad things happened. But we survived. We made it through everything. And there came a point where I wanted to be able to pass on all we learned. To let Bear see that he deserved more. To maybe have a chance to be happier than we’d ever been.”

“You thought all of that?” I ask him weakly.

“Well, yeah,” he says, looking down at me. “I just want everything with you.”

I kiss him because I couldn’t not after hearing that.

“Oh my god,” Marty breathes from across the table. “You two are glorious.”

“I told you they were great,” Megan says, sounding smug. “They are the best people I’ve—oh.”

Otter and I break apart, startled.

Megan’s frowning, looking down at her stomach. She slowly pulls her feet from Marty’s lap, and her brow furrows a little bit.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, panic starting to rise, because no, no, it’s not fair if something goes wrong now, it’s not fair—

She looks up at him, smiling softly. “Your children are awake. They’re kicking. Want to feel?”

“What?” Otter croaks out, and he’s shaking.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Marty says. “Bear, Otter, come around to this side of the table so we don’t have to make Megan move.”

For a moment, both of us are still frozen. And then we’re scrambling up, almost knocking each other to the floor. We’re around the table and on our knees in front of her before I realize what exactly is happening.

Otter reaches up, but then he hesitates, like he’s unsure he has permission to touch. Megan rolls her eyes and grabs his hand, placing it on the left side of her stomach. “Just wait a minute,” she says. “It’ll happen.”

We’re silent then.

There’s a beat, and two, and three, and—

I know the moment he feels it. The moment he feels one of our kids moving in Megan’s stomach. It starts with his lip, the bottom of which trembles before his mouth drops open. It moves up his face in a flush before it hits his eyes, which widen to the point where they’re almost bulging. A sound comes out of his mouth that sounds almost wounded, and then his gaze finds mine and he says, “Bear.”