twenty two.

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Today is a very bittersweet day; I'm grateful to be celebrating Thanksgiving with a family I've been welcomed into with open arms, but today is also a reminder of my biological family whom I won't be sharing the day with.

Unfortunately, my sister, Amelia won't be joining us; I hadn't realised how badly I was looking forward to seeing her again until I received a message a few days after we spoke on the phone about her flights saying she couldn't make it. She wouldn't have been able to get to New York from London in time for today because of the timing of her last exam yesterday afternoon. I had made a plan of what we would do in the city while she was here and how I would finally tell her she's going to be an aunt, but now I can't, not yet anyway.

I plan to tell her soon about the babies, but I would have preferred to do so face-to-face. The news of not seeing her has taken me by surprise, meaning I've been rather down and depressed about it. I'm not going to make my feelings ruin today though, I've spent plenty of my life burying how I feel, so what's another day?

The house is full of the Fields family, Nathan's sister, Laura is sitting in the living area watching the parade with the kids, and his brothers are in the garden throwing a football around. There's genuine happiness flowing between everyone today; conversation bounces between Charlotte, Renee and me in the kitchen where the food that's cooking smells incredible, which is positively impacting my mood massively.

"Do you think he'll hate us if we start eating before him?" I ask, staring at the biscuits in the oven in awe and my mouth waters with every second I do. Don't blame me, they look amazing, and the babies want them.

Charlotte laughs, "He'll be back soon, he's only gone to buy more apple juice. Why don't you sit down, you've been helping in the kitchen all day?"

In all honesty, I haven't been, not at all. I've been eating and observing while Nathan slaved away with all the food, but if that counts as helping, then sure, I have. I was willing to, but he refused and I can't help but think it's because I'm a bad cook and it would benefit everyone that I didn't touch a thing.

"I will once I've set the table," I grin wildly to show that I'm not sitting any time soon, and she sighs, shaking her head, "I'm fine, Charlotte, I promise, worry more about Renee, she's the one who's about to pop."

She snorts, pointing at the brunette sitting at the island, watching in amusement, "Why do you think she's not cooking and I am?"

"She's banned me from the kitchen," Renee smiles happily at me, putting her hand on her bump, "And Iris, I'm not about to pop, I'm thirty-two weeks."

"In my eyes, that's about to pop," I say, but I think it's more so because there's a possibility I'll be delivering my babies as early as then, which is terrifying.

"Hopefully you stay in me another two months, baby girl," she strokes over her bump, speaking to her daughter and I smile at the gesture. She looks up at me watching, "You're seriously not finding out the gender of the twins?"

"We're not; we had the choice last week, but as much as I'd love to know now and I am envious that you can call your baby your daughter already, I know the wait will be worth it."

She smiles, "I'm envious of your dedication and the strength you have not to ring up and simply ask."

I laugh, grabbing the cutlery from the island when I say, "Oh, it's tempting, it really is."

There have been more than a few moments in the last week alone when I've wanted to know, but it's always purely my own curiosity and not something I'm ever going to act on. I'd love to know now, of course I would, who wouldn't? I meant what I said though; the wait until I give birth and am told what sex my babies are when they're in the world will be more than worth it.

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