“Breathe, breathe. It’s going to be okay,” Thomas whispered gently, keeping pace with the gurney as it rolled through the hospital corridor. His hand never left his sister’s, even as she winced in pain.
Leah’s forehead was damp with sweat, her breaths coming in short gasps. “You… you’re the best brother… anyone could ask for, Thomas,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the squeak of the wheels and the distant beeping of monitors.
She was only thirty-six weeks pregnant when the labor began, and the doctors had insisted on an emergency C-section. Thomas had held her hand, whispering comfort, but then everything went wrong.
After the first baby was delivered, Leah’s pulse dropped dangerously. Her body started to fail, and Thomas felt panic clawing at him. “Leah! Stay with me! Nurse! What’s happening? Look at me, Leah! Please, just stay with me!” he shouted, gripping her hand tighter than ever.
“Doctor Spellman, you need to leave now,” Dr. Nichols said, gently but firmly, guiding him toward the waiting area. The OR doors slammed shut behind them.
Thomas sank into a chair, feeling the scent of Leah lingering on his hands. His chest ached, tears streaming freely. He could not imagine life without her.
A doctor appeared moments later, pulling him from his grief. Thomas jumped to his feet. “How is she? How’s Leah?”
Dr. Nichols’ eyes were full of sorrow. “We’re so sorry, Thomas… we couldn’t stop the bleeding. Leah… she didn’t make it. But the babies… they’re safe, in the NICU.”
Thomas fell back into the chair, numb. His sister, who had dreamed of cradling her babies, teaching them, loving them, was gone.
A commotion in the hallway jolted him. “Where the hell is she? She thought she could deliver the kids without me knowing?”
It was Joe, Leah’s ex, storming through the hospital. Rage burned in Thomas’ chest as he grabbed Joe by the collar. “Where were you when she slept on the streets because of a lowlife like you? Where were you four hours ago when she collapsed? She’s dead! She didn’t even live to see her children!”
“I want to see my children!” Joe screamed, yanking at Thomas’ arms.
“Don’t you dare speak of them that way! Get out of my hospital, or I’ll call security!” Thomas barked.
Joe sneered. “I’ll get them back, Thomas! They’re mine!”
Thomas released him, but his grip didn’t loosen in his mind. He knew he couldn’t let Joe anywhere near the babies.
Thomas became their guardian immediately. For the sake of his sister’s triplets, he filed for custody, determined to protect them from Joe’s reckless lifestyle.
In court, Joe wailed, “This isn’t fair! I’m their father! How could you take them away from me? They’re Leah’s blood! My blood! They’re all I have left!”
The judge raised an eyebrow. “You were not married to Leah, nor did you support her during her pregnancy. Is that correct?”
Joe hesitated, looking down. “I… I couldn’t afford it. I work odd jobs. That’s why we never married.”
Thomas’ lawyer stepped forward, presenting texts and voice notes from Leah. “Your Honor, she repeatedly stated Mr. Dawson is a heavy drinker and refused to marry unless he entered rehab. He’s not fit to care for these children.”
The evidence was clear. The court ruled in Thomas’ favor. Relief washed over him as he stepped out, looking at the bright sky. “I promised you I’d take care of them, Leah. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
Joe appeared suddenly. “You won today, Thomas, but I’ll fight for them! You haven’t seen the last of me!”
Thomas shook him off. “You’re not fit to raise them, Joe. Think about their needs, not your pride!”
When Thomas returned home, he found his wife Susannah packing. “What’s going on?” he asked, confused.
“I can’t do this, Thomas,” she said, zipping the last bag. “Three babies at once? I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want children, at least not like this.”
Thomas’ heart sank. He picked up a bottle of wine but froze when his phone lit up with pictures of the three boys—his nephews. He couldn’t abandon them. “I promised Leah I’d give them a good life. I can’t fail them,” he whispered, putting the bottle back.
Years passed. Thomas became a master of multitasking—diaper changing, midnight feedings, even singing lullabies in his horrid voice. The triplets, Jayden, Noah, and Andy, grew up loved and safe, though Thomas’ health began to falter.
One afternoon, after picking the boys up from kindergarten, Thomas froze. Across the street stood Joe, staring at his house like a predator.
“Kids, go inside!” Thomas called, forcing a smile as the boys scampered away.
“Thomas, I’m here for my children,” Joe declared boldly.
“They were never yours, Joe. You walked out before they were born, and now you return? Get lost!”
“I’ve worked hard! I’m ready now! The kids belong with me!”
Thomas laughed bitterly. “A new car doesn’t make you a father. Don’t waste your time.”
Months later, a court summons arrived. Thomas’ stomach churned, but he faced it. Joe’s lawyer questioned Thomas about his health.
“Dr. Spellman, you’ve been diagnosed with a brain tumor, correct? And your medications could impact your ability to care for children?”
Thomas nodded, head hanging.
The judge’s eyes softened. “Given these circumstances, it is best for the children to be with their biological father. You have two weeks to prepare them.”
Packing the boys’ bags, Thomas felt hollow. The children had been his reason to live.
“Uncle Thomas, we want to stay with you!” Jayden cried.
Noah and Andy echoed, “We want to live with you, too!”
Thomas knelt, hugging them. “We agreed I’ll see you on weekends. You’ll still have Daddy Joe, and I want you to be happy. Now let’s get your things.”
The boys clung to him, tears streaming. Even Joe, watching quietly, felt a change inside.
“You were right, Thomas,” Joe whispered, joining the hug. “We should always fight for the children’s sake, not ours.”
And together, they carried the boys’ bags back into the house, a fragile but hopeful family forming in that moment.