"Oh, this is amazing. So amazing. Never thought I would be doing this today." Callan's smile widened, his eyes drifting over the eager crowd, their faces alight with anticipation as they awaited the announcement.
The buzz of their excitement filled the air, amplifying the significance of the moment. Callan's heart pounded with pride and love as he stepped forward, the spotlight warm on his face.
"The award for the architect with the most outstanding design this year goes to the woman of my dreams," he began, his voice strong and clear. "The woman who made me believe in love, my woman, the essence of my life." He paused, savoring the weights of emotions surging through him. "Orla Barlowe, my wife, the beautiful mother of our beautiful children."
The crowd erupted into applause, the sound like a wave crashing over him. Callan's gaze found Orla, standing at the edge of the stage, her eyes shining with disbelief and joy.
"Please, let's give her a round of applause as she rocks the stage tonight. Give it up for Orla Barlowe."
Orla moved forward, the lights capturing her grace and elegance, her steps confident as she joined him on stage.
The applause grew louder, a testament to her exceptional performance and the love they shared.
A proud smile stretched across Callan's face as he watched Orla walk onto the stage, the twins tagging along, one in each hand. The moment felt surreal, brimming with pride and joy that he could hardly contain. He couldn't stop smiling, knowing this moment was priceless.
Callan reached out, taking her hand, and together they stood, basking in the moment that was both a professional triumph and a personal celebration of their bond. Their true love. The love they shared.
"Daddy," Isla squealed, wriggling free from her mother's grasp and darting toward Callan.
She wrapped her small arms around his legs, and he looked down, his heart swelling even more. Leor remained close to Orla, his small hand clutching hers, his eyes wide and patient.
Orla stepped forward and accepted the award from Callan with a tender kiss on her forehead. She then took the microphone from him, a nervous but radiant smile spreading across her face as she turned to address the crowd.
"Oh my goodness," she began, fanning her flushed face with her hands, though it did little to calm her nerves. "I don't know where to start, but I will start somewhere." Her voice wavered slightly, and Callan could see the tears welling in her eyes, glistening under the stage lights. They were tears of joy, a physical manifestation of her immense achievement.
As Orla gathered herself to speak, Callan's heart swelled with a deep, abiding love and admiration.
He knew that this moment wasn't just about the award—it was about everything they had built together, the dreams they had shared, and the future that lay ahead.
Orla stared at the award and the speech she had prepared, knowing that none of this would have been possible without Callan's unwavering support. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.
"Thank you, everyone." She held up the bronze trophy, her smile brightening as she continued, "Thank you to my husband, Callan Barlowe, for being the best man in the world and in my world. For giving me ideas while I designed this project, for standing by my side at every point." She turned to face Callan directly. "Thank you for seeing the best in me even when I didn't believe in myself, for taking care of our babies while I locked myself in the study to design. Thank you for making this possible, Callan. I love you so much, and I want the world to know that."
A round of applause hundered through the room as Orla spoke. She turned to her twins, her smile softening. "To my bundles of joy," she said, "Mommy loves you and thanks you for always encouraging me, even if you don't know what you're doing. I dedicate this award to my late twin sister and my mother, and everyone who made this success possible. Thank you so much, I love you all."
The crowd cheered as Orla posed for pictures with her family. Once the photos were taken, they made their way back to their table, accepting congratulations from well-wishers as they passed.
"And with that, the twenty-third architectural award ceremony comes to an end. But before we go, let's welcome the newest artist making waves in the industry now. Give it up for Tinnie," the host announced, ceding the stage to a lanky man and his dancers.
"Congratulations, Orla Barlowe, my wife. I am so proud of you and how far you've come," Callan whispered as they settled into the car.
His hand squeezed hers, warmth radiating from the touch.
Elizabeth had requested to have the twins over for the weekend, so they dropped them off at their grandmother's house before heading home.
Together alone, the night felt like a private celebration of their shared wins.
"Thank you, Callan," Orla said, her eyes fixed on the award. She still couldn't quite believe it was hers. "You made this possible. I wouldn't have chased my dreams if you hadn't given me that push. Thank you so much."
Callan smiled, caressing her fingers gently. He had so much he wanted to say, but at that moment, words seemed unnecessary. His eyes spoke volumes as he gazed at his wife.
"You mentioned you had news," he said softly, maintaining eye contact. "What is it?"
He loved her deeply, madly.
She was the absolute love of his life.
Orla felt the intensity of his gaze, each emotion clear in his eyes. She felt the same way for him, perhaps even more.
After more than five years together, her feelings for him only grew stronger and more vibrant each day. She fell in love with him over and over again, always.
"Callan," she began, dropping her head slightly, "what would you have done if I didn't win the award tonight?"
"I had the utmost confidence you would win. I never doubted it," Callan said, his voice steady and filled with conviction.
Orla smiled, feeling the warmth of his strong belief in her. He always believed in her more than she believed in herself.
"What's the news?" he asked again, his curiosity evident.
Orla took a deep breath, bracing herself. "When will you tell me about Leor?" she asked suddenly. "Our son bears his name, but you've never said anything about him. Don't you think I deserve to know more, Callan?"
Callan flinched, his head dropping.
He wanted to meet her gaze but couldn't summon the courage. He had avoided this conversation for years, dreading the pain it brought up. Leor wasn't supposed to leave the way he did, but life had other plans.
Sighing, he began, "He was my brother, my older brother, the favorite and best son." Callan took Orla's hands, the memories triggering a deep sadness but he tried to stay composed. "I didn't have a footing, no life before he died. I was a glass child. You know what that means?"
Orla nodded. She understood all too well what it meant to be a glass child, having lived it herself.
"He was twenty, and I was ten," Callan continued. "He was like a father to me, more than just a brother," Callan began, his voice tinged with the sadness of old wounds. "My parents always wanted me to be like him, but I was reckless. They never gave me the affection I craved. It was always about Leor—they never thought about me."
He paused, his gaze distant as he relieved those painful memories. "I felt invisible, like I didn't matter. In my frustration and hurt, I decided to live recklessly. If they didn't love me, I figured there was no point in trying to be the perfect son they wanted."
Orla looked at him, her eyes wide with understanding and silent encouragement. Though speechless, she conveyed through her steady gaze that she was there for him, ready to listen.
"On my eleventh birthday, I got into a fight at school, as usual. My parents were summoned by the school authority. I remember the pain in my dad's eyes as he walked into the principal's office. It was the fifth time he'd come to the school that month. Orla, I swear I was going to change. I meant it, but they didn't live to see it. They got into an accident on their way back to the office that afternoon. Leor had drunk some alcohol and was driving. It was fatal. We lost both of them. Leor and Dad died, and Mom's world crumbled. For a long time, she blamed me for their deaths. I had to deal with the guilt and terrible nightmares. There was nothing I could do but be at her mercy. She turned me into her dog, took full control of my life. I had to pay for my sins by pleasing her. That's why I did everything she wanted, but that changed the day I decided to marry you. That was the first time I went against her, and I'm glad I did." He finished with a sigh of relief, feeling lighter for having shared his burden. "Now, that's all about Leor. What news do you have?"
Orla smiled warmly, touched by his vulnerability. She could see the pain in his eyes, the remnants of a difficult past. "It wasn't your fault," she said softly, looking into his eyes.
"I was reckless. They might have lived if they hadn't visited the school that day. If I hadn't gotten into a fight."
"Callan, I love you," she said, her voice filled with pure affection.
He pulled her close, their foreheads touching. "I love you too, Orla. Always."
In that moment, Orla realized Callan deserved all the love in the world for his strength and support, even while struggling with his own demons. He was strong, the best man in the world, and she was grateful that fate had brought him into her life.
"More than anything in the world, Orla. I love you more than anything in the world," Callan said, his voice full of sincerity.
"More than our babies and the baby?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.
Callan was about to respond when he caught the significance of her words. "The baby?" he repeated, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Yes, and that's the news. I'm pregnant with our third child," she announced, her smile radiant.
"No way, Orla. You didn't tell me—there are no changes in your body."
"I am pregnant again, Callan."
He sat frozen in the car seat, the weight of her words sinking in. "Since when?" he finally managed to say. "Since when did you know about this?"
"Since the day Isla told you she wanted a sister," she replied.
Callan flashed back to the conversation he had with their daughter three weeks ago, the memory vivid in his mind.
"I wanted it to be a surprise, and I'm glad I got you real bad," Orla added with a grin.
Callan's face softened as he reached for her hand. "Thank you for staying by my side, Orla. I love you so much."
Tears of joy welled in Orla's eyes as she looked into Callan's, feeling the depth of their shared love and the excitement of the new life they had created together. "I love you too, Callan. Always."
Hello everyone, this is the concluding part of the first chapter.
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