I lean back in my chair, allowing my ears to listen to my work. Smiling, I place my hands on my twelve weeks old baby bump. It's clearly there, but I can't feel any movement yet. Those three little babies are still too small for me to feel anything. I can't believe I get to share my body again - this time with three humans instead of one. Three humans, each the size of a plum. As predicted most of my clothes start to not fit me anymore. I called Natalie again, a personal shopper, to buy me some clothes. She has bought most of Troy's and my wardrobe, so she knows my style and color scheme. I asked for clothes in a bigger size instead of maternity clothes. Soon enough I'll have to wear these, but right now I just look five months pregnant - or a little overweight, depending on the perspective. I didn't give her a budget as I have the privilege not to. She knows what designers I like and which shape suits me best - even in my pregnant state. That woman will make a mint with this pregnancy, no doubt. Most of clothes should be delivered to my office by the end of the day.

It's the first time in five weeks that I can work in the studio and produce some really good music. The last weeks have been stressful and full of office work - the boring stuff that needs to be done. But today, I can finally, finally spend a day in a recording studio at Unfaithful Records. I've shut the business office chatter out as I closed the door of studio six and locked myself in there. It's just me, a piano, a guitar and the mixing console.

There's nothing better than this at work.

Music is blasting through the speakers as I check on what my employees have been working on in the last few weeks. So far, everything sounds fine. Occasionally, I make a few changes to the music just to give it that last polished touch. But overall, they seem to have done really well. It's almost as if I can go on maternity leave without worry at all.

I wince as I hear my phone ringing next to me. I should have put it on silence, but I didn't. Maybe it's my husband, who should be here any minute for our lunch date. Frowning, I stare at the screen as I notice it's a number from New York City. Who the hell is calling me from New York?

"Hello?" I ask the unknown caller on the other line.

"You are fucking unbelievable! How dare you be such a shitty daughter! She is sick and you refuse to offer her any help! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I hear a female yelling at me. She sounds furious for some reason. Her voice is pretty high but that must be from her rage. Probably the wrong number.

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number." I say in a calm voice.

"No I don't, Gabriella. I know exactly who am I calling!" she continues yelling.

My mouth falls open as I recognize the voice. "Sharpay?" Is that really Ryan's twin sister and my stepsister? I haven't heard from here in over eight years!

"Who else would call from fucking New York, huh?!" she hisses again.

"Why are you calling?" I feel my blood starting to boil as I straighten my back.

"I told you why I am calling. I am calling because of Mom, you sneaky little bi-"

"Because of Victoria?" I interrupt her, frowning. I haven't heard of Victoria in a very long time - and I haven't spent a thought on her just as long.

Suddenly, I can hear Sharpay starting to cry on the other line. But I remain silent. "What's wrong?" I ask after five minutes of listening to her cries. Seriously, I have better things to do than listen to her cries. I don't want to waste any precious second in my studio with things I don't enjoy.

"She is sick." I can barely hear her due to the sobs. She's crying really hard. She starts mumbling something I don't understand.

"Sick?" I repeat the only word I understood... I think.

"She has leukemia." Sharpay cleans her nose, "She needs a donation."

I lean back in the chair again. Ah, so this is what the call's about.

"Neither Vance nor me are compatible. The doctor said someone blood-related could be."

"Me." I breathe out. I should feel something, but to my surprise I feel nothing.

"Yes."

She really has gotten indifferent to me. After all these years, Victoria couldn't be more of a stranger to me. And suddenly she depends on me - like I did a lifetime ago. But she refused to give me the help I asked her for. "How bad is it?"

"She's doing chemo and all that jazz, but it seems to not help. Dr. Marin says she has a year max. More likely less." she sobs again, "She's number 27 on the list. 27!"

I listen to her words, but they don't reach my heart like they reach her's. I feel like she's talking about a stranger. "Does she know you're calling me?"

"No. She said that you wouldn't help her anyway. She asked me to not contact you or Ryan. But I just can't help it. It's our mother we're talking about here!"

I brush through my hair, "Well, Sharpay I hate to admit it, but she's right."

"What?!" she sounds shocked.

"I can't help you."

"But you could get tested in London and then fly over to Manhattan and-"

"Sharpay, I said I won't do it." I interrupt her, sounding harsh. I sound like a bitch or spoiled brat but I don't care. Suddenly, I hear the door opening and I look over my shoulder. Troy is walking in with a bag filled with Indian food. He's wearing a light grey suit and a navy tie that make my blood sing in my veins. For a moment I forget time and space. I have one fine looking husband.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she starts yelling at me again, interrupting my thoughts. I place the phone on the mixing console as Troy closes the door. He frowns at me, seeing I am clearly ignoring her yells.

"Who's that?" he asks as he sits down on the couch.

"Sharpay."

"Sharpay?" he sounds as surprised as I feel. "Why is she yelling?" he looks at the phone.

"Hello?!" I hear her yelling and I pick up the phone again.

"Are you done yelling?" I ask her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You have-" I place the phone on the mixing console again. I don't have the time nor mood to listen to her talking to me in that way.

I look at my husband whose lips have risen to a smirk. "What?"

He shakes his head in response, "Nothing."

"Good." I pick up the phone as she's getting more silent again. "Done?"

"Yes."

"I am not allowed to fly." I explain my decision, "And I don't think she's well enough to fly to London. Besides, even if I were allowed to fly, I still couldn't make the donation. I couldn't even get tested." I explain to her.

"You are a shitty daughter! How dare you drop her like that! You are the most heartless person I know. I don't know how someone could ever love you, you are-" I hang up before she can say another word. I heard enough of this bullshit.

I place the phone back on the mixing console and turn around as Troy gets out our lunch. "Indian?"

"Yes. Unless you crave something special."

I shake my head, "Indian sounds fine." I ensure him with a smile.

"What was the call about?" He asks, handing me a fork and knife.

"Victoria."

"Victoria?" He asks back, frowning. "Sharpay called you because of your mother?"

I nod, "Yes."

"What did she want?"

"Bone marrow donation." I explain as I start eating the rice.

"What?!"

"Victoria has leukemia, apparently." I take sip of my water, "But I can't help her."

He looks down at my baby bump. "High risk pregnancy."

"Those three little words are part of the reason. I mean, I can't fly let alone get that needle rammed into my bones." I take a bite of my curry, "Besides, I wouldn't do it if I were able to."

"Well, you don't owe her anything."

"That's right. I don't owe her anything. She screwed me up and almost twenty five years later I am still fixing her damage."

He puts on his poker face.

"What?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing."

I know this look. This definitely does not mean nothing. "No, spit it out."

He sighs, "It just occurred to me that Victoria has never seen our children."

That's a white lie, I can tell. "No, that's not what's bothering you."

"You're right…" he brushes through his chestnut coloured hair. "You really wouldn't do it?"

"The bone marrow donation? No." I shrug, "Why would I? You said it yourself, I don't owe her anything. Besides, I told her to not contact me ever again. Nothing has changed just because she is sick."

"She's not just sick. She's going to die." He points out.

"Everyone dies. One day. You will die, I will die, our children will-" I stop talking as he raises his hand.

"Stop being so cynical." His orbs sparkle in anger, telling me I may have taken it a step too far.

"I am not cynical. When Sharpay called me and told me about Victoria, I felt nothing. No fear, no pain, no sadness, no guilt… nothing. She has become indifferent to me. Completely indifferent." I take another sip of my water, "But I am sorry if I took it a step too far. I didn't mean to."

His features, especially his dark eyes, don't soften at my apology. I should have known.

"Let's just eat our lunch and talk about something other than Victoria." I suggest before taking a bite of my curry. I can feel his eyes staring at me for a moment before he gives in.

"I've seen Andrea on my way in. Thirteen months. That's a new milestone." He smirks at me.

I chuckle, "I think she's going to stay for a little while." I agree with him. "After all, Lucy's recommendation was really good."

"Listen, I have a business dinner to attend to tonight."

I lean back in my chair, unable to hide my disappointment, "Again?" I know what that means. It means he won't be home before midnight, most likely far after midnight. He won't bring Della and Ana to bed, which is a shame because they love having a last conversation with him before they drift off to dreamland. But those conversations haven't happened in weeks. I let out a sigh, brush through my hair, "Fine." I say and push a key on the keyboard so the music continues playing. I don't want to talk about this with him right now. I hate his business dinners, but then again, he must hate mine as well.

"Is that from you?" he asks with a raised eyebrow. He's referring to the song that's playing.

"No, it's actually Alicia's work." I say before taking another bite of my rice. "But it does sound like I could have done it, doesn't it?"

He nods as he takes a sip of his water. "It certainly does. Your style seems to rub off."

I smirk at his words, "I think I'll be fine one maternity leave."

"I think so, too."

I park the silver Tesla in front of our house. "Okay, everyone out." I say before pushing a button to open the trunk of the car. Ana and Della open the doors on each side before hopping out of the car. I get out as well and stare at my girls in their red school uniforms. They look beyond adorable! "I need your guys' help."

"Sure." Ana and Della follow me to the trunk of the car. I watch a pair of blue and bright green eyes widen in surprise.

"Mom, what's all of this?" Della asks frowning. They are staring at the many shopping bags that fill up the trunk of the car.

"Did you go shopping?" Ana frowns as her eyes see the many labels: Prada, Chanel, Dior, Hermes, Yves Saint Laurent, Burberry and Mulberry. It's every woman's dream - every, but not mine.

"No, that was Natalie."

"The lady that makes money by buying clothes for you?" Della asks back.

"Yes."

"And how long will these fit you?" Ana asks me. This is the third time Natalie has done the shopping for me. I feel like I have to call her every three weeks.

"That's the million dollar question." I smirk at Ana. "But I hope at least a few weeks."

"What about the clothes that no longer fit?"

"I have them stored in suitcases." Hopefully, in a year and a half or two years, I'm going to fit into them again.

Ana picks up a few bags and Della follows, "But what about the pregnancy clothes that you will outgrow?"

"I'll donate the clothes." I say, picking up the last two bags. "Or wait until after I gave birth. I will look quite big for a few months."

"Are there shoes in here as well?"

"No, shoes are a whole different story."

Ana chuckles before unlocking the front door with her fingerprint. She places her thumb on the sensor and the door unlocks.

"When's Daddy coming home?" Della asks as she walks in.

"Hopefully in a few hours." My phone starts vibrating in my purse and I know by the ringtone that it's a message from Troy, probably saying he'll be home far after midnight. Stupid business dinners.

"Do you want us to bring the bags upstairs?" Ana asks.

I shake my head, "No. Just leave them here."

Both of my girls place the ten bags they were holding on the floor. "Do you have any homework to do?"

"No." They say out of one mouth as they get out of the shoes.

I should have known. "What do you want to have for dinner?"

"I really think we should wait for Daddy to come home."

"Della!" Ana cries out in shock.

My mouth falls down as I get out of my shoes. "Is my cooking really so bad?"

Ana shakes her head, "I enjoy it."

"I do, too. It's just I enjoy Daddy's cooking even more."

I sigh, he probably won't be home before midnight. I doubt that he's going to see his daughters today. "How about we make a lasagne? Is that a compromise?"

Della nods, "Okay, good."

"Great." I put on a smile.

I place the remaining dirty dishes into the dishwasher. We had dinner without Troy - again. I feel his eyes burning into my back. Anger starts building inside of me and I feel provoked although he has done nothing but stare at me. I mean he warned me at lunch, but I didn't expect him to be home at almost one o'clock.

"Hi." His voice is soft. He must sense my anger.

I close the dishwasher with a loud bang. "The leftovers from the lasagne are in the fridge. A matching wine is in our wine fridge. Help yourself. Enjoy your dinner. The girls are already asleep." I say without looking at him. I know what business dinners with Troy are like, they don't eat, they just drink. Scotch, whiskey, wine... it's a nightmare for a sober person at the table. It's why I only had one business dinner by Troy's side and never ever again. People are almost surprised when they have a business dinner with me, because I actually expect people to eat. My husband doesn't react to my words, so I turn around. I fold my arms and place them on my baby bump. His body is still wrapped in the same suit he left the house this morning. But the light grey suit and the navy silk tie don't make my blood sing this time. Because I am boiling with rage. His eyes look a little glassy and I know he has drunk more than he should have. He may not even seem tipsy to everyone else at the dinner, but I know my husband pretty damn well. He won't get an aspirin for his headache tomorrow from me. He did this to himself, he better live with the consequences. He sighs at my image as his drunken blue eyes dance up and down my body.

He has no right to sigh at my image! "Save it." I hiss at him. He opens his mouth and I rise my finger to shut him up. "I swear, Troy, I am furious with you. So, when I say save it, I really mean it."

He takes a step closer to me instead of the direction where the fridge is. "Look, I-" he holds out his arms to embrace me but I take a step back.

"What the fuck didn't you understand?!" I yell at him, exploding right in front of his eyes. He drops his arms, his body stiffening at my words. "When will you start coming home on time?!" Ever since we found out about the triplets, he has not once been home on time - let alone somewhere close to bedtime.

"Gabi-"

"No! Open the fridge, get out your dinner and fucking eat it with a glass of wine!" I yell, throwing the dish towel at him. "Or better drink a litre of water with the lasagne. You've drunken enough alcohol over the course of this evening."

"I-"

"I really don't want to talk to you right now." I hiss through my clenched teeth. "So, don't even try to apologise to me." With that I turn around and leave him standing in our kitchen.

I turn off the water and open the glass door of the shower. My left hand grabs the white fluffy towel before I wrap it around me. I step out of the shower, open a window and start to dry my body. I am still full of rage. This shower should have calmed me down, but it did nothing but fire my anger up. I get into my panties before I start putting on lotion on my body. After a few seconds I hear the door opening. I can feel his presence behind me, feel his bright blue eyes burning into my back again. "I am still mad at you, so if you don't want to spend the night downstairs then you should use your words wisely." I say as I spread lotion on my bump. "Or don't talk at all."

He sighs before I hear his footsteps walking over to me. They sound as heavy as ever. He stops across me, his eyes resting on my hands that are massaging the lotion in. I can feel the way his mind is racing as his eyes stare at my hands.

"Gabriella," he breathes out my name as I finish.

I shake my head, "No." I turn around and walk out of the bathroom. I switch on the light in our dressing room and grab a light grey shirt from his side. I get into it and turn around again. But I stop as I see him standing in the doorway with his arms resting on each side of the open doors, blocking my exit. His bright blue eyes stare at me and I feel my body reacting without my consent. I stop across him and cross my arms over my bump. He tilts his head to the side and stares at me, apologising without a word leaving his lips. I raise an eyebrow at him and his glance gets softer. "You should shower." I breathe out after a few minutes of silence between us.

He lets his arms down and takes a step closer to me. His lips crash against mine and I unwillingly return his kiss. His hands on my back press me into his body as our tongues start dancing. I can taste the scotch he had at the business dinner and the espresso afterwards. After minutes of making out, he lets go and starts kissing the nape of my neck.

"I am still mad at you." I say as the heat inside of me starts rising. Sometimes it's a curse that our bodies react to one another so well.

"I know." he whispers into my ear before kissing my collarbone.

I place my hands on his biceps and squeeze as I start feeling the waves of pleasure rushing through me. "Stop." I say as the throbbing between my legs starts increasing. He can't use sex as an apology. He stops kissing me and stares at me. "I can't." I'm mad. It would be wrong. Really wrong... God, but I'm so horny!

He gulps and nods. He takes a step backwards, freeing my exit. I sigh as my hands reaches for the light switch. The throbbing between my legs increases and I bite my lip. He turns around and starts to walk to the bathroom. I close my eyes, I won't be able to sleep now anyway. But I can't use him just for my pleasure, can I? I brush through my hair as I open my eyes. "Fucking room." I say out loud and watch him stop in his movement.

Two words for one need.

I feel his body weight on the mattress a few hours later. The smell of shower gel mixed with his very own smell starts filling my nostrils. His body heat starts warming me like I'm in a sauna. The sex was what my body needed, but my soul needs something else.

"Are you still awake?" His voice is a whisper that sounds like a cry in this room.

I don't move. I still don't want to talk to him. We barely talked in our fucking room and it was totally fine by me. "Yes." I breathe out anyway, after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm sorry."

I don't turn around.

"I'm really trying to be home on time but sometimes the day gets so crazy it's hard to leave the office on time. Besides, I've warned you that I'm going to be home late often before going on paternity leave."

"Often but not daily." I snap at him.

"You know what it's like."

I sigh before rolling over to my other side. "I do which is why I am so mad."

He frowns at me, "I don't understand."

"I am mad at you because there's a point in every crazy hectic day in which you decide to stay in longer, to finish the last email, to read through that last damn paper. You decide. In other words you prioritise. And you chose work over us. Over your family."

His eyes turn dark at my words and I know I've hit him right where I wanted to - in his precious heart. He gulps because he knows I am right. He knows.

"Stop choosing work over us. Please, fucking stop making the wrong decision over and over and over again." I reach out and brush through his chestnut coloured hair. "Soon, we'll have five children and I don't want to see five broken hearts every time you don't come home on time. I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to. They need you. They need the story telling, the puzzle making, looking at the stars with you, making hot chocolate with you, cooking dinner... they need to spend time with their Daddy because their Mommy is slowly but surely driving them insane with her pregnancy ticks." I smirk at him, "They need you..." I whisper before placing his hands on my bump, "and they need you, too." A smile appears on his lips, the proud smile of a Daddy. The bump is undeniably there. "And I need you." I say and gulp down the tears that start forming in my eyes. He looks up, meeting my gaze. "Your wife needs you to hold her, tell her you love her when she thinks she's fat and bring her strawberry cheesecake at night. But you can't do that when you're coming home far after midnight. I mean, there are days I don't even see you because you leave before me and come home after I've fallen asleep." I watch his Adam's apple moving as he gulps, "Look, I can do this pregnancy alone, but I don't want to. I know it's early, I know I'm hardly showing but I better tell you all of this now than later when I am as round as a balloon because then you won't be taking me serious at all. It took us almost eight years to get to this point. Eight years to get pregnant but I have a feeling you're still not ready for it. I hate to be the bad cop here, but from now on you will come home on time. You will kiss our girls goodnight each night and then cuddle with me on the couch while we watch a football game or tennis or whatever the hell you want. And when I've fallen asleep you can do as much work as the hell you want. But you will come home on time. You will be there for them and for me. Do you understand me?"

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

He takes a deep breath, "I'll change that. I will come home on time, no more late meetings, no more business dinners. I will be here to bring the girls to bed and I will be there for you. I know I've been busy lately, but I didn't realise how much it affected you. I apologise."

"Good."

He sighs before pressing his forehead against mine, "I didn't mean to hurt you and our girls."

"I know... it's just sometimes I have to put that mirror in front of you. The next few months are going to be tough on all of us - and that's just before they are born. I need you to be on board."

"I am." He promises me before kissing me, "More than ever."

Please review! What's your favorite part of this chapter?

Xoxo