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“Have you forgotten how to trust me, Tiff?.” I ask her inches from her mouth, sniffing her neck, barely holding the groan inside. She has always smelled like honey and cinnamon. She leans into me for a moment before she catches herself. I loosen my grip and allow her some space. Not answering her, I unlock the door and usher her inside.
“Mark what is…'' she stops mid-sentence and I know what she is seeing. She is looking at a foyer filled with photos of us from high school. Pictures that show the look on my face as I stared at her while she was unaware reading a book. Or while she was laughing at something someone else said. When she moves further into the entrance she sees the picture we took at prom, the very prom where we were voted most likely to marry after college and were crowned prom queen and king. “Mark.” Her hand comes to her mouth, and I watch as she begins to cry. I stand against the wall, giving her a second to let everything she left behind seep into her unconscious. When she begins to hiccup, I move swiftly and wrap my arms around her.
“I know,” is all I say, engulfing her in my arms. She holds on to me, gripping me like I am her lifeline. I allow myself to sink into this feeling and then I feel a bump between us. Stepping back, I look down at her stomach which is making ripples right now and I can’t stop the tear that falls from my face. “Is that…?” The question lingers as our eyes meet. She smiles, albeit sheepishly and nods at me.
“Yeah. She likes it when people rub and push against my stomach. She thinks it's playtime.” I watch raptly as she rubs her belly and once again the ripples happen. Compulsively, I move to touch her, the familiarity sweeping over me, not to mention the possessiveness of having her in our home, the home I bought for us, whilst she is housing my child.
“May I?” I ask her, trying to be a gentleman about it.
“Of course,” she answers, moving into my hands. The first feeling of the hardness that is my child inside the woman I love, and I am a man overcome. I want to fall at her feet and worship her for giving our child life and keeping them safe, but I can’t forget she left with this gift inside of her. Knowing that doesn’t stop the wonder I feel at the movement beneath my hands.
“Do you..” I have to stop and clear the overwhelming emotion from my throat. “Did you find out the gender?”
“It’s a girl.” she whispers and bites her lip.
“Holy fuck.” She looks up at me and I can only imagine the horror on my face. A girl? What the hell am I going to do with a girl? Seems the joke is on me.
Chapter Five
TIFFANY
I am speechless. Stunned into silence looking around the house he obviously has spent the last six months putting together. If I weren’t here witnessing it with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. Walking into it is like seeing my life in pictures, carefully orchestrated and laid out in the open. There are photos of us everywhere, from high school to college and every time we have spent in between. Including all of the festival activities we partook in once we became a couple. I can’t find the word right now to say exactly what is running through my mind. All I can seem to do is stare at the evidence of what we have shared as the tears fall from my face.
His hands touch my belly and everything inside of me that has laid dormant, awakens. The part of my heart only reserved for him, that I tried to keep hidden and safe once I left, springs to life. I watch his face turn into panic when he finds out it is a girl, and I can’t help but giggle. “You find this funny?” he says, his hands still rubbing the moving little girl inside of me. If I am honest, his touch, his hands, encircling the hard mound of life we created feels more than right. It feels like an oasis after going through a drought. I didn’t realize how much I needed this…him…before this moment.
“I just..” I look around some more before facing him. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell him honestly.
“This was always my plan, remember. I told you once we graduated I was going to marry you and buy one of these new houses and we were going to start our life. I never gave up on that dream.” The slight hint of anger in his voice hurts, it pierces me knowing I am the cause of his heartbreak.
