Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 256

Amara’s gaze drifted from the tiny chest that rose and fell against her to the other baby resting against Dominic’s arm.

She stretched her hand toward him.

"May I?" she whispered.

Dominic’s lips parted, his eyes softening. He nodded without speaking. His movements were slow, and reverent. He shifted carefully, sliding one arm beneath the baby’s head, the other beneath her back, and walked around the bed toward Amara.

When their hands brushed during the exchange, she felt the faint tremor in his fingers.

He let go reluctantly.

The second twin came to rest in Amara’s arms beside her sister, and Amara’s breath hitched. "Oh... oh, you’re so small," she murmured, adjusting her hold. "So light, like air that decided to stay."

Dominic stayed close, eyes trained on both of them. "I still can’t tell which one looks more like Celeste," he said quietly.

Amara smiled, blinking through another tear. "Both. One has her calm... the other has her quiet fire."

Celeste stirred faintly in her half-sleep, her lips curving upward as if she’d heard them.

Amara turned a little so she could see both faces clearly, the soft curve of their noses, the faintest blush under their translucent skin. Her tears slipped faster now, and she didn’t even try to hold them back.

"Dominic..." she whispered. "Do you realize they’re holding your whole future in these tiny bodies?"

He exhaled shakily, his throat tightening around words. "Yeah," he said finally. "And I’ll spend every breath I have protecting it."

Amara looked up at him. He was the man who once carried so much chaos in his chest now reduced to tears by two newborns. "You already are," she said softly.

She rocked both babies, side by side now, with their tiny faces nestled against each other. "You two," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You have no idea how long we waited for you. How many nights she stayed awake, praying quietly. How many mornings she pretended she was fine. How many days he’d hold her hand, even when she didn’t speak. You both were the hope we held onto before we even knew your names."

Dominic turned his head slightly, blinking hard. "We haven’t even chosen names yet."

Celeste stirred again, her lashes fluttering open. Her gaze moved slowly, taking them both in. "Selene..." she whispered, her voice faint but sure. "And Celsa."

Amara’s heart broke a little at the sound. "Do you hear that, my girls?" she whispered to them. "Your mother just gave you wings."

Celeste smiled weakly, reaching her hand out toward them. Amara stepped forward instantly, lowering the twins toward her. Celeste’s fingers brushed across the side of their faces. She traced the smallest circles, her touch trembling.

"Hi, my loves," she breathed. "You’re finally here."

Dominic crouched beside the bed. His forehead touched her shoulder. He was crying openly now, quietly, and unashamed.

Amara looked at both of them and something inside her softened completely. She stepped back, giving them space. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

The twins began to fidget again, their soft noises blending into each other until it almost sounded like a hum.

Celeste smiled faintly. "They sound like they’re singing."

"They are," Amara said. "They’re singing you back to life."

Celeste’s lips trembled into another smile, and Dominic leaned in to press a kiss against her temple.

For a long time, they all stayed like that.

The room was filled with the smallest sounds like the babies’ breaths, the rain softening outside, and Celeste’s heartbeat beneath Dominic’s hand.

Then Amara whispered, "You know... I never thought I’d get to witness something this pure again. Not after everything."

Dominic looked up at her. "You deserved to," he said simply. "You’ve carried enough storms for a lifetime."

She smiled faintly. "Maybe this was the rainbow I was waiting for."

He didn’t answer, but his silence said everything.

The twins shifted again. Celsa with a tiny frown, and Selene with a flutter of her mouth. Amara bent slightly and whispered, "Don’t worry. The world’s a little loud sometimes, but you’ve got good people waiting for you. You’ll see."

She glanced up, smiling softly. "Dominic?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something."

He straightened, meeting her gaze. "Anything."

"Don’t ever let them grow up without knowing the kind of love that brought them here." She said thoughtfully, almost pleading.

He nodded, firmly. "I promise."

Celeste smiled weakly, her voice a soft whisper. "We both do."

Amara smiled, blinking through another flood of tears. "Then I can breathe easy."

She bent to press a gentle kiss to each baby’s forehead. "Welcome to the world, Celsa and Selene. It’s already brighter because you’re in it."

The rain outside finally stopped.

The clouds shifted, and sunlight broke through the window, spilling over the bed in ribbons of gold. It washed across Celeste’s pale skin, caught on Dominic’s tears, and turned the twins’ blankets to soft, glowing silk.

For a moment, the world stilled.

The door creaked softly before any of them could move.

Celeste’s tired eyes flickered toward it, confusion written faintly across her features. Dominic turned first, still crouched by the bed, his hand instinctively brushing the back of her wrist.

"Sir," one of his men said quietly from the doorway.

Dominic rose slowly, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek before any tear could fall to the floor. "Come in."

The door opened wider, and one by one, six of his men entered. Then another team followed. They moved silently, carrying boxes stacked neatly, and each wrapped in deep ivory paper and tied with a thin ribbon of gold.

There were sixteen boxes in total.

Amara blinked, her brows lifting. "What on earth..."

Dominic’s lips curved slightly, though his eyes were still red-rimmed. "Gifts." His voice softened as he looked toward Celeste.

He turned to the men and gestured toward the open space near the window. "Put them down gently."

They obeyed instantly. Six boxes went near Amara’s side, and ten were placed in a soft semi-circle near Celeste’s bed.

Celeste’s gaze darted between them, disbelief settling in her exhausted eyes. "Dominic..." she murmured, her voice still fragile.

He stepped closer to her, crouching again so his face was level with hers. "Don’t look at me like that," he whispered, brushing her hair back from her temple. "You’ve given me the only gift that ever mattered. The least I can do is give you something back."

Celeste smiled faintly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You never change, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you."

Amara sniffled from across the room, half-laughing through her tears. "Six boxes for me, huh? What did I do to deserve this?"

Dominic turned his head toward her, smiling softly. "For being her anchor. For not letting her break when I almost did."

Amara’s eyes glistened again. "Dominic..."

He raised a hand lightly, shaking his head. "Just take them. I’ll feel better knowing you did."

Celeste’s tired fingers brushed over the soft blanket that covered her daughters. "This isn’t fair."

He chuckled softly. "Maybe I’m just making up for lost time."

"Lost time?" she echoed faintly.

He nodded. "For every year I spent not knowing what peace looked like. For every day I didn’t believe I’d get to see you smile again."

Amara pressed a hand to her mouth, her chest tightening. The weight of his words filled the air.

He exhaled deeply and turned back toward the babies. "And for them," he said quietly. "Because I want the world to start giving before it ever dares to take from them."

Celeste’s lips trembled into another small smile. "They’re going to have you wrapped around their fingers."

He grinned, his eyes flicking toward the sleeping twins. "They already do."

"So... do I get to open one?" Amara asked, her voice soft and teasing.

Dominic laughed. "Go ahead."

Amara reached for the first box nearest to her.