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I’ll give them the world.
When she spots me out of the corner of her eye, Eden’s smile lights up the entire room.
“What do you think?” she asks. “By the window or by the wall?”
“Whatever you think is best, sweetheart.”
“Are you all finished with your meeting? How’d it go?”
“Mark your calendars becauseJuliet After Romeois coming to a theater near you.”
“I’m so happy for you!” She rushes over and gives me a big hug.
I can tell she means it, too. Ever since we got back together, we’ve made good on our promise to stay open and honest. There isn’t a problem too big or too small that we don’t discuss with each other. We’ve learned from everything we’ve been through. We make mistakes here and there, of course, but Eden and I are doing miles better than we were before. The only problem is…
I still haven’t told her I love her.
It’s stupid, I know. Three simple words, but I can’t seem to slip them into conversation. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to find the right time. Before, during, and after sex feels a bit like a cop-out —and even at six months pregnant, Eden’s downright insatiable— but I also get the sense that she wouldn’t appreciate some over-the-top grand gesture. My Eden’s a simple girl, a humble one.
I’ve tried spoiling her with expensive clothes, designer perfumes, sparkling jewelry that could rival the stars, only to be politely and graciously rejected.
“I don’t need any of that stuff, Hunter,” she tells me, always with a quiet giggle. “I have everything I need already.”
I could do something drastic. Lord knows I’m well within my means to, but I know Eden too well. She’s not the type of woman who’s easily swayed by a sea of freshly cut roses or unnecessarily expensive helicopter rides over the city. She’d probably tell me it’s a waste of money, perfectly happy with a private dinner right here at home. Except that doesn’t feel quite right, either. Far too casual. I need her to know how I feel, so although it doesn’t have to be flashy and grand, it should still be meaningful and memorable.
Maybe I’m thinking about this too hard. Honestly, my head’s so wrapped up in baby-related things that it’s a miracle I can even think about anything else. My brain’s admittedly a little bit fried with all the discussions about due dates and birthing plans and what color we should paint the nursery —classic baby blue or something more neutral?
In all fairness, Eden hasn’t said it to me, either. I know how much she cares; I canseeit with my own two eyes. Sometimes I wonder if she’s struggling to find the right time to say it, too. For now, I suppose this is enough. Just getting to be here with her, to enjoy this journey… I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
The doorbell rings.
“Oh, that must be Annabeth,” Eden says. She outstretches her hand to me. I take it without hesitation, threading her fingers between mine.
“I didn’t know she was coming over today,” I reply.
“It was a last-minute thing. She texted me earlier saying that she’s back from that indie film shooting in Vancouver and wanted to stop by.”
I squeeze her hand lightly as she leads me down the hall. She’s got a bit of a waddle now, but it’s the cutest fucking thing in the world.
Eden and Annabeth have been in touch more frequently. I wouldn’t say that their relationship is one hundred percent repaired, but they’re well on their way of building back up that mother-daughter trust. There’s an ease between them that wasn’t there before, and I think being able to bond over the baby has helped a great deal.
Annabeth squeals when she sees Eden, throwing her arms around her to wrap her in a hug. “You’re getting so big!” she exclaims. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s been kicking non-stop,” Eden says, rubbing her belly affectionately. “I think he might grow up to be a soccer player.”
“You mean he’s not going to grow up to be a film buff like me?” I joke lightly. “Someonehas to inherit my collection one day. Just think about it, if he gets into directing, we could start a family legacy of filmmakers!”
Eden rolls her eyes as she pats my back affectionately. “If Jackson has a genuine interest, sure, but let’s not push our hopes and dreams onto him before he even gets here.”
Annabeth arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Jackson? Does this mean you two have landed on a name?”
I shake my head. “We’re testing it out. I still prefer Logan or Michael, but Eden’s insisting on Jackson.”
Annabeth giggles. “Oh, come on, Hunter. Don’t you know by now that a happy wife equals a happy life?”
I feel Eden tense up beside me. I’m similarly at a loss for words. We haven’t talked about marriage. In many ways, it makes sense. We live together, we’re having and raising a child together, and I plan on being there to provide and protect them at every turn. I’ve thought about proposing to Eden purely on the basis of wanting to make sure she and our son are entitled to my estate should anything happen to me, but a marriage of convenience is not at all romantic. I don’t think Eden would appreciate the sentiment, either.
She hooks elbows with her mother and starts away. “Let me show you the baby’s room. I think you’ll like the changes we’ve made.”
