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This time, Kai lets his hand slide off the door, and I shut it gently, leaving him in the hall alone to consider what I’ve said. If Adrian was listening, then all the better since I won’t have to repeat myself later when our eventual confrontation happens.
Climbing back into bed, I snuggle under the covers. This time, I’m warmer from actually wearing clothes. I sigh and let my eyes drift closed again, fighting the pang of longing to have my husband’s arms wrapped around me. There’s nothing in the world like snuggling up next to him, breathing in the scent at his neck, knowing that he belongs to me and only me.
Some hopeful part of me insists we’ll get back there. That I should give him space and time and let him come to terms with everything on his own.
But there’s another part of me. The one that loitered under my father’s care for far too long. The one that let Rose get slaughtered in my own home. The one that still bears the scars of so-called love.
That part of me knows better. And it knows that I won’t let Adrian smother this growing feeling inside me. A feeling that tells me I’m worth living, and I’m worth fighting for.
20
ADRIAN
I don’t sleep. Instead, I carefully ease away from her and rush to my office. It takes time and waking people up, but I pay them enough to deal with it. In less than three hours, I have what I need and quietly return to the bedside.
She’s still asleep, her curls unbound and riotous across the pillow with one hand cupped under her cheek. I take a moment to stare at her because, damn, she’s so beautiful. She’ll be even more so when her belly swells with our child, and I can feel it growing inside her.
As I consider how her body will change, I dig in the paper bags around my feet softly, keeping my noise to a minimum. As a kid, I perfected the art of being invisible and silent so as to not draw my father’s attention. Those skills serve me well as an adult too.
This time, I don’t monitor how long it takes me to ease every item from each of the bags. It could take years, and I wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t blink, wouldn’t be anywhere else than here at this moment.
Once I finish, I sit on the edge of the bed, slightly away from the dozens of baby paraphernalia I’ve arranged around her sleeping body. When she wakes, I want her to see how serious I am about making this work. About beginning our family together. Will it be perfect? Hell no. But it will be ours, and that’s all that matters.
Now that I’m finished, I’m anxious for her to wake, but I also know she needs her sleep. While I waited for the personal shoppers to complete their missions, I read up on the first trimester and what it will do to her. At the very least, the next time she argues about my fussing over her, I can cite sources to back up my decrees.
When she finally stirs in the covers, her shifting knees knocking into clothing and toys, she wakes blinking into the hazy pre-dawn light. She sees me staring and freezes. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Does something have to be wrong for me to admire my wife?”
She frowns, the lines bracketing her mouth matching the one bisecting her forehead, belying her young age. “Yeah, if my husband is sitting on the bed, fully clothed and staring…it definitely makes me think something might be wrong.”
I give her a soft smile and shake my head, then deliberately shift my eyes to the item nearest her: a minky soft gray baby blanket.
She follows my look and lets out a little, “Oh.” Then her gaze rakes over the array of items until she sits up to take it all in. “Did you sleep at all?”
I ease up the bed enough to grab her hands in mine. “No, but that doesn’t matter. Right now, all that matters is you knowing that I’m serious about this. That I’m excited, even if the news came as a bit of a shock. I’m not going to promise I won’t overreact as you progress, but I’ll do my best not to burden you with it.”
Her features are still drawn up tight as she looks at everything but me. “It’s not a burden that you care.”
Gently, I tug my fingers from hers and gather the items on the bed. Still sleepy, she reacts slowly, chasing after my hands to catch things before I remove them. “What, wait, stop, what are you doing?”
I can’t help but laugh as I tug the baby blanket from her death grip. “I’m putting them in the bassinet for now, don’t worry.”
