Chapter Eight: Finally

"You look happy."

I turned and gave Ian a look as I held onto Iana; I was brushing her hair, getting her ready as we prepared to get ourselves ready for everyone who was coming over that day to help us move. It would be quite a moving party—Fiona, Lip, Ian, Debbie, Carl, Franny, Trevor, Nicholas, and I would all be constantly schlepping boxes from Nicholas's car or from the house. I'd taken the liberty, with Ian and Nicholas's help, of clearing out my bedroom of all of the non-essentials as the week had passed, and so now all that remained were the boxes of all my accumulated shit—well, mine and Iana's—that were in need of transport.

"I guess I'm happier than not happy," I replied, finishing the job on Iana's hair and gently setting her down. "Now, do you remember what Mama told you?" I asked her.

Iana grinned. "Yeah. Run upstairs and make sure we have everything!"

I nodded. "That's right, my angel. Go on now," I said, slipping her hairbrush into one of her boxes and watching as she ran upstairs. "At least she likes the house..."

"Having second thoughts?" Ian asked.

I let out a laugh then; it was becoming easier to do so, for now it didn't hurt as much in my stitched-up area. "God no," I replied. "Nicholas and I are at a really good place, and the boys needed a nursery anyway..."

"You think you'd be moving in together, even if you weren't pregnant?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He told me that he loved me before he knew about the pregnancy, but all the complications and shit got in the way... Maybe if we'd just agreed to be honest with each other from day one, things would've been different..."

"Oh, where's the fun in that?" Ian asked.

I felt my brows knit together. "Well, along with Debbie and Carl, we can all fit our sexual partners on one hand," I said, leaning back against the couch and giving him an amused expression, to which Ian appeared annoyed. "Must be an exclusive trait for the younger half of the Gallagher children," I said.

"You're in the older part—don't kid yourself," Ian replied, looking as if he wanted to throw a pillow at me, but decided against it. "Besides, Liam hasn't..."

"Other than himself?" I asked, grinning at him and Ian gave a disgusted expression. "You know it'll start soon. You prepared for that?"

Ian covered his ears. "I'm not listening."

"Hey, this is serious," I replied, reaching out and yanking one of his arms off from his ear. "You know you need to have the talk with him, right? Carl would just freak him out with horror stories about Kassidi, and Lip would get all technical about it."

"Well, why don't you tell him?" Ian asked.

I scoffed at that, getting to my feet and stretching my limbs, running my hands on my stomach and shaking my head. "Please. I'm the poster child for someone who shouldn't be giving the sex talk to her youngest brother."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Oh, well let's see. I didn't get the divine opportunity to help raise him, for starters. Then there's the matter of Liam's comfort level—he'd likely do better hearing this man-to-man. Not to mention that I was in denial about my sexuality until I was in my early twenties, and that I have two different baby daddies..." I turned around and looked at Ian, who looked surprised that I had come up with a list that quickly. "Sorry, but it had to be said."

Ian shook his head. "Well, I might not be a good candidate either."

"Jesus, Ian. You've fucked a woman," I replied, throwing up my hands. "We both have that in common—each fucking a woman..."

"Yeah, but you had a relationship with that woman," Ian said, getting to his feet with an amused expression. "And, if I recall correctly, you didn't 99.9% of the fucking, with the exception of the last time around."

I crossed my arms. "That's beside the point."

Ian sighed. "Lip and Carl are the only ones who are reliable enough to give him the talk, when it comes right down to it..."

I shuddered at the notion of the alternative. "Yeah. Frank would probably talk about the benefits of getting your sexual partner high first, given that, supposedly, different drugs can give you different kinds of orgasms..."

Ian smirked. "You really think Frank would go there?"

I fixed Ian with a look. "It's fucking Frank. What do you think?"

Ian nodded. "Yeah, guess you're right..."

I thought about it for a moment, considering everything, when a sudden thought came to me that I hadn't considered. "What about Kev?" I asked, looking up at Ian, who didn't look totally against the suggestion. "I mean, he lives right next door, and him and V have a healthy sex life between them. He's a good guy—offered me that job at the bar within minutes of knowing me, so he knows a good egg when he sees one..."

Ian smirked again. "Did you just say, 'good egg'? What are we? Some weird PSA from the 1950's about the benefits of etiquette or some shit?"

I rolled my eyes. "Regardless of my use of certain archaic expressions, I think maybe it'd be good for Liam to have a sit-down with Kev. Don't you?"

Ian considered it for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, that could work."

I gave Ian a smile then as there was a knock at the front door, and he gave my shoulder a squeeze before heading upstairs to collect Iana and Liam. I walked from the living room and opened the outer door, stepping into the anteroom before pulling open the front door and seeing Nicholas standing on the front porch. I felt my heart hammer immediately in my chest then, and felt my cheeks flushing as the hormones of the pregnancy threatened to take over my entire body then as I stepped forward.

"Good morning," I said, practically throwing myself at him and kissing him.

Nicholas chuckled against my lips, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me back. "Lip and Carl just got here," he explained, and I quickly got myself down and out of his arms, looking around to spot my brothers already hauling some boxes from Nicholas's trunk and up the stairs of our new place. "Hope you don't mind that I put them to work."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, of course not," I replied, running my hand through my hair. "I just wish I could be of more help. Whenever I picked up something much heavier than Iana, Ian would throw a fit. He's even paying Liam a few bucks to keep an eye on me..."

"As well I should," Ian replied, stepping into the vicinity, Iana in his arms, and Liam in his wake as he managed a smile for Nicholas. "Well, Liam, let's see if you can help Lip and Carl until Fi and Debs get here, okay?"

"Okay!" Liam said, sprinting past us all and running down the stairs towards Nicholas's car, and peering into the trunk before he extracted a box and hauled it into our yard.

"He's very excited," I said, giving Nicholas a pleading look. "I'll pay for anything that Liam breaks, I promise."

Nicholas grinned. "Don't worry—I specifically labeled the boxes that would be appropriate for him. Mostly full of books. You can't really break a book."

I blinked. "Wow. Thank you," I replied, reaching out and running my hand up and down his arm in a moment of happiness. "So responsible..."

"And I've seen enough," Ian said, handing Iana over to me as Trevor drove up. "Got to get to my boyfriend, and show him where we've stashed your things," he said, walking around Nicholas and down the stairs, towards Trevor's car.

I sighed, watching as Trevor got out of the car and kissed Ian before Ian explained that there were boxes outside the house, and in Nicholas's trunk. They headed back into the house together, with Trevor greeting the three of us, before they themselves began hauling boxes of mine and Iana's things to the house next door. "Sorry about him," I said quietly as they left the yard and walked across the street, boxes in hand. "Ian's trying, Nicholas, really. I can't tell you how many times I've spoken to him..."

Nicholas grinned. "He's spoken to me, too."

I shifted Iana in my arms, trying really hard to keep my cool. "I'll kill him," I replied, thankful that Iana seemed distracted by the goings-on outside, so much so that when Debbie and Franny pulled up in Fiona's car, that she managed to wriggle out of my arms, whereupon she bounded down the stairs, straight into Fiona's arms. "What the hell did he say to you?"

Nicholas smiled, pulling me towards him then and snaking a hand around my waist. "What you would expect from a brother who loves his sister pretty much more than anything," he said. "I mean, I admire Ian for his strength and devotion towards you, Murph, really I do."

I pursed my lips, watching as Fiona, Debbie, and Franny caught up with Iana for a moment. "I guess that's fine, in that context, but it doesn't really tell me what Ian said."

"Basically that he'd kill me if I ever hurt you again."

I laughed then, rolling my eyes. "Of course he fucking did," I muttered to myself, watching as Debbie opted to take Franny across the street to unload from Nicholas's car, while Fiona came back with Franny, smiling at the two of us as she approached. "Put on a smile—my favorite sister approaches," I said quietly.

"Debbie isn't your favorite?"

I sighed. "Fi and I are just closer," I said quietly. "Hey!" I said, breaking away from Nicholas for a moment to hug Fiona. I felt pleased when she hugs me back then, and even though she and I would never be as close as Ian and I were, she was definitely my favorite of my two sisters. "I hope the drive over here was good."

"Oh, you know—the usual with Debs," Fiona replied, pulling back. "How's everything?" she asked, gesturing towards my incision, hidden beneath a bulky pregnancy sweater. "Are things feeling okay today?"

"I can only get stronger from here," I told her with a grin.

Fiona gave me a thumbs-up. "That's what I like to hear!" she said, squeezing my shoulder before walking with Iana into the house, speaking quietly to her as they proceeded to grab some things to take over to the new house.

"You really feeling okay?" Nicholas asked, returning his arm to its previous position around my waist, kissing me on the cheek.

I smiled. "The boys kick the shit outta me whenever they think that I haven't had enough calories to sustain myself for four hours," I reply.

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "Is that right?" he asked, bending down then, staring directly at my stomach. "Boys, this is your father speaking..."

I felt myself burst out laughing, and attempted to push him away. "You seriously need to stop this right now," I said.

"No, they need to learn," Nicholas replied, laughing then as he attempted to dodge my blows to his head. "Boys, I don't like what I'm hearing from your mother. She tells me that you've been kicking her, and I won't stand for that. I'd say 'use your words', but you likely won't begin developing language skills for up to a year. Anyhow, I just wanted you to hear my voice. I love you both, and I just wanted you to know that." He stood up then, pulling me back against his side rather triumphantly. "Better?"

"Surprisingly, they just did a few flips then," I said, peering up at him in mock-confusion. "Are you a fucking wizard or something? I thought I was the only gifted person who didn't get a letter from Hogwarts..."

Nicholas smirked. "Ilvermorny," he replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "You're into Harry Potter?" I asked.

Nicholas nodded. "Very."

I pursed my lips. "What House are you?"

"Hogwarts or Ilvermorny?"

"Hogwarts first."

"Ravenclaw. Yours?"

"Gryffindor," I said quickly. "And Ilvermorny?"

"Horned Serpent. You?"

"Thunderbird," I replied.

"Odd," Nicholas said.

I nodded. "I think so, too... Do you think that the main characters ended up with who they were supposed to end up with?"

"I would've rathered Neville ended up with Luna, but beggars can't be choosers. I liked that Harry finally realized that Ginny was the right girl for him, and that Ron and Hermione ended up together like they were supposed to."

"I agree," I tell him, smiling up at him then. "Well, well, well. Nicholas Blomqvist is more of a book nerd than I originally thought..."

Nicholas looked like a combination of skeptical and intrigued then. "Is that a good thing?" he wanted to know.

I nodded. "It's a very good thing."

"Tell me how good of a thing it is, then."

I grinned, enjoying this game. "Well, let's just say if we were in our new house, in the master bedroom, right now, with no prying eyes watching, and no ears listening, I would pretty much do whatever I wanted."

"And what do you want to do, Murphy?" he asked.

I bit down hard on my lower lip then—dammit, these pregnancy hormones were really trying to get the best of me today. "We would do what any common adults do best," I replied, standing on my toes and moving my lips towards his ear. "We would fuck. Hard. Just like we did in our offices all those times, back when we weren't even a couple. But, of course, I much prefer looking at you..."

"Why?" Nicholas asked, and I detected the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rising at my words, and the heat on his skin. "Why do you like looking at me?"

"So I can make sure I'm doing all the things you like," I said softly to him. "I want to make sure that we're in it together. And I want to make sure that you're making me as happy as I'm making you," I tell him.

"You always make me happy, Murphy," Nicholas whispers.

I giggle then, pulling back from him. "Do I?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Dammit, I can't leave you two alone for ten minutes, can I?"

I turn around then, spotting Ian coming across the street then, and immediately find myself backing away from Nicholas, as if I was a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Something wrong, Ian?" I asked, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice.

Ian sighed. "Just us not knowing where to put your shit," he said, trying to remain calm. "Can you please come and help?"

I nodded. "Of course," I replied, stepping back into the living room for a moment, slipping my phone into my laptop case, and moving to follow him. "You still need to work on your respect and kindness towards Nicholas," I whispered to him, as Nicholas disappeared into the house to collect some boxes. "He's really trying, for your sake, to get along..."

Ian rolled his eyes. "He tell you?"

"That you threatened to kill him if he hurt me again?" I asked as Ian pushed open my gate and as walked into my new yard. "Yes. We're being honest with each other."

Ian rolled his shoulders then as we approached my porch. "I wasn't kidding. Once false move, Murph, and he's fucking dead."

I put out my arm then, preventing him from walking up the stairs. "Ian."

"Don't," he said, his voice firm as he jerked his head towards me. "Yes, I am taking my fucking meds. Please, don't pull a Fiona and demand to know..."

"Okay," I said, moving my blocking arm to his shoulder. "I believe you. Just please, don't commit murder, because I would find it very hard to represent and not represent you. I'd feel compelled because you're my brother, but also compelled to throw you to the wolves so that you could rot in prison."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't represent me?"

"Not if you killed Nicholas," I replied.

He nodded. "Really?"

"No. Yes. I don't fucking know," I said, smacking him on the arm as he laughed. "Just, promise me—no killing. That's all I ask."

Ian spread his hands. "If he doesn't hurt you, fine," he replied, going up the stairs, and I quickly moved to follow him.

Due to my family's help, Nicholas and I were all moved in just after seven o'clock, and Nicholas decided it would be an opportune time for a pizza party in the backyard. I was shocked at the table and twelve matching chairs in the backyard, and was pleased that Nicholas had considered everyone. Even Ian seemed pleased by this, and as I chewed my pizza with extra cheese, all I could think about was my brother and boyfriend ultimately getting along.

When eight o'clock rolled around, Fiona, Debbie, and Franny said their goodbyes, driving off into the night. Lip and Carl said goodnight shortly thereafter, and Ian told me that Trevor was going to spend the night, so he, Liam, and Trevor would be taking off soon, too. Per Iana's wishes, I let Nicholas put her to bed that night, while Trevor walked Liam over to the house, which gave me and Ian another minute alone.

"It's like the end of an era," Ian said quietly.

I smiled at him. "More like the beginning of a new one."

Ian nodded. "I'll try to think of it that way."

"Hey, I know I don't need to remind you that my door is always open, and I am literally just across the street," I said, squeezing his shoulder. "You are my best friend, and my brother—my fucking twin. Nobody's going to step in and separate us again, Ian. They're not. I wouldn't let them, I can promise you that."

Ian hesitated for a moment before he yanked me into his arms, hugging me. "I know that," he said quietly to me. "Doesn't mean it makes it any easier."

I held tightly onto him. "I know," I said, knowing that we were both in tears. "But I also know how strong we are. And it's not like I'm moving to another country or something. I'm still here, and I'll come over all the time, and so will you. This isn't a death sentence to our family, Ian, it's absolutely not that."

Ian pulled back then, just staring at me for a moment before he laughed. "It just feels like yesterday that we found each other..."

I laughed back at him. "I know. It really does..."

"You want to talk?" he asks. "Talk."

I sighed. "Look, this isn't going to be easy, but I do know that, in time, maybe we can come to an understanding about all this. So, please, be patient with me."

Ian sighed. "Okay."

I sighed, knowing that I should start at the beginning. "I got a call last week from Judge Whitmore, who was impressed with some case notes of mine," I began. "He's been following me academically, and was so impressed that he decided to do me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"A legal favor," I replied. "He got my birth certificate."

"So, you know who you are?" Ian asks.

I nodded. "Yes," I replied, feeling my voice shaking as I said it. "I know who I am."

"Tell me, then," Ian said. "Tell me who you are."

"Ian, it's not that simple..."

"Scar, fucking tell me, or don't bother talking to me again," he replied.

I raised my eyes to his. "Ian, please..."

"Fuck this," Ian said, turning around and walking away from me.

"Murphy Gallagher!" I called after him, and Ian stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at me with a horrified expression on his face.

"Scar, what are you...?"

"Murphy. Margaret. Gallagher," I say, chopping up the words into sentences as I reach into my briefcase, handing my birth certificate to him. "See that? Murphy Margaret Gallagher, daughter of Frank and Monica Gallagher."

"Scar..." Ian whispered.

"What?" I asked.

Ian raised his eyes to mine, from where they'd been staring at the birth certificate. "The date. It's the date..." He stammered, unable to speak.

"What about it? I assumed we were Irish twins..."

"We're not Irish," Ian replied, and I felt my eyes widen then.

"What are you saying?" I whispered.

"We're just fucking twins," Ian said quietly.

"You remembering it, too?"

I shook my head at him, then found I was smiling. "Yeah. Maybe a little."

"It was pretty scary for me," he admits softly. "I guess I never assumed that such a significant part of me would be missing, and for so long..."

I nodded at him. "I know what you mean."

He nodded back at me. "Okay, we can cut out the waterworks," he said, and I wiped my tears away, as he did his. "My boyfriend is waiting for me."

I laughed then. "So's mine."

"Okay, then," Ian said, pulling me in for one last hug. "See you tomorrow, then."

I nodded. "Right. We're cooking you breakfast. Come over around eight, then. And bring some eggs, but we've got everything else covered."

"Eggs," Ian said, pulling back from me then. "You got it," he went on, letting me go entirely and walking towards the front door, which he opened. "Okay. Goodnight, Murphy."

I nodded, following him to the door so that I could lock it behind him. "Goodnight, Ian," I replied, watching him walk down the stairs, through the gate, across the street, and towards the house I'd once called home.

. . .

Thanksgiving passed, and Nicholas relented and gave in to my wishes for us to spend it at my former home. I loved having a boyfriend who was becoming a part of my family, and Iana was over the moon at our entire family paying attention to her. Once the week after Thanksgiving dawned, I went online and relentlessly began Christmas shopping; I'd been given the all-clear to return to work already, but only after the twins were born. I was officially in the home-stretch of my pregnancy, and I would not allow myself to get distracted by case work of any forms. My priorities were getting Iana to and from preschool, grocery shopping, Christmas shopping, cooking, and cleaning. It was a full-time job, and I quickly found that I was loving each and every minute of it.

Once the end of the month came, and I was very pregnant, Nicholas and I were up late on Christmas Eve wrapping gifts, and I remembered the previous year, when Nicholas and I weren't really talking, and how I had to tiptoe my way through every conversation. I would never want to go back to those days, filled with uncertainty, and found an inner peace, now that I had Nicholas by my side again. It all seemed more permeant, now that we were living together, and a lovely calm had settled over the household, one that I would not wish to take back.

"I just realized something."

"Hmm?" I asked, wrapping up the complete Harry Potter series for Iana—all in hardback—for a Christmas present. It was a couple years too early, but maybe she would like it in time. "What's that?" I wanted to know, looking up at Nicholas.

He smiled. "It's almost midnight."

I looked up at the antique clock we had on our mantle, just above the fireplace, which Iana had made us swear not to light, due to Santa's upcoming arrival. "So it is."

Nicholas smirked at me then, obviously knowing something I didn't. "It's almost midnight, and you haven't opened your one Christmas Eve gift yet."

I sighed, finishing taping up the volumes of books before grabbing some pink ribbon, doing my best to tie it myself. "That's a rule for children, Nicholas."

"We're all young at heart, Murph."

I scoffed, finally managing to pin the ribbon down accordingly and tie it up. "Well, I gave you your present before breakfast this morning," I said, locking my eyes to Nicholas's, which hastily darkened with desire. "I think I would have heard a complaint by now..."

"No complaints here," Nicholas assured me. "It was amazing."

I wiggled my hips then, quickly stopping when I remembered I was pregnant, and, knowing how pathetic it must've looked, lowered my eyes. "Yes. Well, I'm not sure if we should do a pre-Christmas gift, Nicholas..."

"Why?" he asked, offering me a box—it was black velvet, and it had a white ribbon tied around it, and I felt my eyes widening.

I shook my head. "Nicholas..."

"Wait," he said, and our clock chimed midnight, and he grinned in a moment of satisfaction then as he handed it over. "Merry Christmas."

"You better not have," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling then and I pulled at the ribbon, relieved when it untied in one pull. Trying to keep my hands from shaking, I slowly opened the box then, revealing an oval-cut, four-carat brilliant diamond on a platinum band, which too boasted smaller diamonds on a brilliant pave. I felt my heart hammering in my throat then as I looked up at Nicholas, who just smiled at me.

"Marry me," he said then.

"Nicholas..."

"It's not just because you're pregnant, or because we're already living together," he said quickly to me, and I found I was shaking then. "It's because I'm in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nicholas..." I tried again.

"Murphy Margaret Gallagher," Nicholas said, taking the ring from its box and getting onto one knee, as he smiled up at me, "I love you. I want to be your husband, and a proper father to Iana, because she deserves one. Not that Ian hasn't been amazing, and you've done a wonderful job as her mother, but I love that little girl..."

I felt my eyes fill with tears then as a smile came onto my face. "Nicholas..."

"Murphy Margaret Gallagher," he said again, holding out the ring to me. "Will you marry me and be my wife and partner in crime, and in life, forever?"

"Yes," I said, my heart hammering in my throat. "Yes, I will. I'll marry you, Nicholas!" I cried out then, holding out my hand then as it shook, holding onto my wrist then as Nicholas slipped the ring onto my finger. I threw my arms around him then, my sobs filling the room then, although it was from joy, not displeasure.

I could barely sleep that night, I was so excited, and once Nicholas and I woke up to Iana screaming for joy that Santa had come again, we went downstairs. The two of us sat Iana down and explained things to her, and my daughter took it in her stride, with a flair of excitement. It was after we opened our gifts and had breakfast, after getting dressed and making ourselves presentable, that we were waiting for Iana downstairs to put on all her new winter clothes, that I turned to Nicholas.

"I don't want to wait."

Nicholas turned to me then. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not the kind of girl who wants a wedding in the middle of summer at some coastline manor house that'll be forgotten about in fifteen minutes," I replied. "I want you, me, Iana, your parents, Ian, and Fiona there. I want Judge Whitmore to marry us at the courthouse, I want your parents to be witnesses, I want Iana to be the flower girl, I want Fiona to be my Maid of Honor, and I want you to ask Ian to be your Best Man. If you're okay with that..."

Nicholas smiled. "A no-frills wedding?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I want to do it tomorrow."

Nicholas looked me over then. "Are you sure?"

I nodded again, grinning at him. "I'm positive. Fiona did a courthouse wedding when she did it, but it lasted five fucking minutes because she didn't keep people in the loop. We're putting the most important people into the mix. The rest will follow."

My fiancé grinned. "Okay."

I blinked. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said, pulling me towards him. "We'll break the news to Ian and Fiona over gifts this morning, and then when we go over to my parent's house for lunch, we'll tell them. I'm sure Dad can be persuaded to call Judge Whitmore."

"And Iana got that beautiful new dress from me," I said quietly. "And I know Fiona will want to take me wedding shopping tomorrow morning..."

"So, it's agreed," Nicholas replied. "We'll aim for tomorrow afternoon."

"Murphy Margaret Gallagher-Blomqvist," I said quietly.

Nicholas smiled. "You're going to hyphenate?"

I nodded. "I am. I was without my own name for so long that I can't just throw it away, even if I get married to the man of my dreams."

Nicholas grinned. "That sounds fair."

. . .

Nicholas and I were married the following afternoon; I had just enough time to get a dress with Fiona's help, and Nicholas surprised me by having a bouquet of red roses delivered to the courthouse. Judge Whitmore was only too happy to marry us, and he was swapping stories with Hugo and Allie as Fiona got me ready. Once my dress was on, I stared at myself in the mirror in the makeshift dressing room, and smiled at myself.

"I'm a pregnant bride," I said, and Fiona's eyes met mine in the mirror. "God help me—I'm officially a walking sin."

Fiona put her arms around me then. "Plenty of people have gotten married when they're pregnant, Murph. Trust me—it's fine."

"But white is supposed to be a virginal color," I said, thankful that Allie had agreed to make sure that Iana didn't ruin her new dress, and was somewhere at the courthouse. "God knows I'm not a virgin—far from it."

"Didn't you tell Ian you could count your partners on one hand?"

I scoffed. "Yeah. Jessica, Lip, Mickey, Nicholas, and Josh," I replied.

Fiona nodded. "There you go. Had we been in a church, I think it would've fallen down because of that second one."

"Ha-ha," I said, straightening my veil. "Well, it looks like we're ready. I'm glad that Lip, Debbie, Carl, and Liam came. Franny seems to take to being a flower girl really well, and Lip, Carl, and Liam make dashing groomsmen..."

"And not to mention Debbie being a bridesmaid," Fiona said, turning me around to get a good look at me. "How are you feeling? Okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Fine." I smoothed the front of my dress, still feeling slightly unattractive due to the fact that it was a maternity dress and not some Vera Wang. "Nicholas promised that we could renew our vows in a couple of years. Hopefully I'm not suddenly fifteen months pregnant then or something," I joked, turning then as the door opened, and Ian stepped inside. "Hey," I said to him as Fiona turned around.

Ian looked me over then, looking proud. "You look beautiful, Murph," he said, extending his arm to me. "We're ready."

"He's right—you do look beautiful," Fiona assured me, kissing me on the cheek and adjusting my veil for me. "And don't worry—Frank hasn't been told by anyone, so it's unlikely he'll come by and ruin this wedding."

"We can only hope," Ian said.

I stepped forward and took Ian's arm. "Showtime, I guess," I said with a grin.

The ceremony was beautiful—if not simple—and Hugo and Allie just seemed pleased to be included, and didn't seem to mind that I'd requested a simple day for ourselves. Once we were proclaimed as Mr. and Mrs. Blomqvist, I hastily cut in, letting everyone know that I would be going by Gallagher-Blomqvist, and my siblings looked moved that I'd decided to keep the name, effectively keeping ties with all of them, even if I was now married. We returned to our house, where Trevor joined us, apologizing for his inability to come, as he had had a crisis with one of his teens. I assured Trevor that we had plenty of photos for him to see, and that he didn't miss much of it, really.

Five days into our marriage, as the New Year officially began, I went downstairs with a spring to my step. I was wearing my robe and slippers, my wedding ring still on its finger as I went into the kitchen around seven-thirty. Pleased with myself, I started whipping up pancake batter, and went into the fridge for some eggs and sausages. As I cooked, I knew that the scent would wake up my daughter and my husband and, sure enough, the two of them came downstairs together, Nicholas holding onto her.

"Mama, can I watch T.V.?" Iana asked.

I smiled. "Yes, but PBS only, remember," I said, kissing her on the cheek. "And just for a few minutes—breakfast will be ready soon."

"Okay, Mama," she said, waiting for Nicholas to put her down so that she could scurry off into the living room.

Nicholas moved to set the breakfast table. "She's turning into such a polite little thing. I think she was raised exceptionally well."

I smirked, flipping the pancakes before moving back to the eggs—which I'd scrambled—and flipped them around the pan, before doing the same to the sausage. "Yes, she was," I confirm, the satisfaction of someone complimenting my daughter never getting old.

"Listen, Murph, we need to talk..."

I looked up at Nicholas, wondering if he would say something like this was all too much too soon, or if he never wanted this domestic bliss at all, and that being married to and moving in with me was the worst mistake of his life... "What is it?" I asked him, hating myself for the dread that seemed into my tone. "Are you okay?"

Immediately, Nicholas smiled and moved to my side. "It's nothing bad."

I nodded. "Okay. Then what is it?"

My husband kissed me then and took my hand. "I want to talk to you about me possibly adopting Iana," he replied.

I raised my eyebrows then, floored. "What?" I asked.