Page 24 of Triplet Babies for the CEO

“What about the holidays? Are you coming back to visit?” I ask, needing that reassurance.

“Definitely. I’ll be back!” she replies, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

I grab my packed bags, the weight of my belongings a reminder of the change ahead. We walk out together, closing the door on this chapter of our lives.

Wiping away the tears that have escaped, I drive back to the office, trying to focus on the road ahead.

I have to meet Brody at the office, and somehow, I need to pull it together before I get there.

As I pull into the parking lot, I spot Brody in his truck, and the moment our eyes meet, he flashes me a wink. My cheeks heat up, and I can’t help but smile back as I park my old car next to his.

After a quick adjustment of my hair in the rearview mirror, I take a deep breath and follow him out of the lot.

We hit the road, and the scenery starts to shift dramatically.

The towering skyscrapers of the city fade into the distance, replaced by the wide, open spaces of rural Illinois.

A sense of freedom washes over me as I follow Brody’s truck down the highway, flanked by endless fields stretching toward the horizon. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm goldenlight that spills over everything, giving the landscape a dreamy glow.

Sprawling fields of corn stand tall on either side, their hardened, tan stalks swaying gently in the evening breeze, while clusters of spent wildflowers punctuate the rows with splashes of dull color.

I catch glimpses of grazing cows, their silhouettes framed against the vibrant orange and pink sky, and I can smell the faint, sweet scent of hay mingling with the crisp evening air.

Quaint farmhouses nestle among sprawling pastures, white picket fences framing gardens bursting with fading flowers. It’s so picturesque.

A rusty red barn appears in the distance, its weathered wood telling stories of hard work and tradition. The peacefulness of the countryside envelops me, a welcome contrast to the hectic pace of the city.

Dimming sunlight filters through the branches of trees along the road, creating dappled patterns on the ground. We take a sudden turn onto a winding country road, bordered by trees that arch overhead, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.

I steal glances at Brody’s truck as we navigate the curves, my heart racing at the thought of being in his world all the time. The butterflies return as I imagine my new life with him, this unexpected journey unfolding before me amidst the beauty of rural Illinois.

As I follow Brody, my heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. My little beater car, with its faded paint and numerous dings, feels like a clumsy companion trailing behind the impressive vehicle.

I try to keep my focus on the road ahead, but my thoughts keep drifting back to what lies at the end of this drive.

When we finally arrive, I pull up to his home, a stunning mansion that seems to stretch endlessly toward the sky. Thesprawling property is surrounded by manicured lawns, vibrant flower beds bursting with color, and towering trees that stand like sentinels guarding the place.

My mouth falls open as I take in the grandeur of it all.

I shake my head, looking at Brody as I get out of my car.

“I don’t remember it being this big.”

He laughs. I shouldn’t be surprised; he’s the CEO of a successful construction company, after all.

The house is easily the nicest I’ve ever seen, its elegant façade is adorned with intricate brickwork and large windows that reflect the golden glow of the setting sun. A spacious porch wraps around the front, inviting and warm, with rockers that look perfect for sipping coffee on a lazy morning.

But then a wave of insecurity crashes over me; my upbringing isn’t something that I’ve kept exclusively hidden, but I come from a world that people might call "trailer trash”.

My childhood was filled with cramped spaces and the smell of grease from takeout dinners, not expansive kitchens and well-decorated living rooms.

The sheer opulence of Brody’s home feels overwhelming to me in this moment, and I can’t help but wonder if I truly belong here.

“Come on,” Brody says to me, coming to help me with my bags. “I bet Dana has dinner ready.”

I drift after him toward the house, still feeling a bit like an imposter and wondering if I made the right choice.

I'm immediately embraced by a cozy, sophisticated charm as I step inside Brody’s rustic cabin-style mansion. A massive stone fireplace dominates the far wall, its flames flickering softly, casting a golden glow across the room.

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