Elena's POV
Zayden had installed three more cameras in the hallway. One outside the bathroom. One in the kitchen. And one pointed directly at the staircase.
"Just in case," he said, completely serious as he stood on a stool, drilling into the ceiling.
"Just in case what?" I asked from the sofa, where I'd been ordered to remain horizontal for the past hour.
"Just in case you get dizzy, or the tiles are wet, or gravity betrays us," he replied, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm not taking chances."
I laughed and shook my head, secretly melting inside. "Zayden Wolfe, CEO of Paranoia & Snuggles."
"I'll take that title proudly." He stepped down, wiped his hands, and rushed to my side with a glass of water. "You drank enough today?"
"You're watching me on six different cameras. Can't you tell?"
"I like hearing it from you too."
I took the glass, sipping slowly under his watchful gaze.
Then his phone buzzed.
He checked it. His eyes lit up. "The new baby website you liked just dropped their twin clothing line."
Oh no.
"Zay," I warned.
But it was too late. He was already pulling up the website on the giant screen in the bedroom. He sat beside me on the bed, carefully lifting my feet onto his lap like I was royalty, and opened a sea of pastel cuteness.
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"You can't buy both the astronaut and the ballerina sets," I said, scrolling.
"Why not?" he asked, already adding them to the cart.
"They're for newborns. They'll grow out of them in a week."
"I'll frame them," he said with a straight face.
I stared. "You're serious?"
"I'm framing their first everything. First onesie. First hospital tag. First tears if I can catch them in a vial."
I burst out laughing. "You're such a sap."
"And you love it."
He wasn't wrong.
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We kept scrolling, comparing bowties to glittery socks, arguing over whether the pink bunny pajamas were cuter than the dino-themed footies.
"I want her to wear a crown every day," Zay said, zooming in on a tiny pink headband with sparkly rhinestones.
"And him?"
He pointed at a onesie that said "Mommy's Boss."
"Nope," I said, snatching the remote. "That's biased."
Zayden leaned over, his voice deepening. "Fine. Then I'll get one that says, 'Daddy's Favourite.'"
I smirked. "You're going to spoil them rotten."
"Obviously," he said, grinning. "They're ours."
---
Eventually, the bed was a mess of screenshots, shipping confirmations, and Zayden's careful scribbles in a new notebook labeled "Twin Prep Manual."
I rested my head on his shoulder, completely content.
"They're going to be so loved," I whispered.
He kissed my hair. "They already are."
And in that moment—surrounded by baby clothes, security cameras, and his warm, protective arms—I had never felt more safe.
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