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He’s rented out the entire day for us to take our photos at the waterfalls near the edge of the city, which is usually booked out for months for couples who can only rent it for a half-hour at a time. He was able to pay an obscene amount of money for all the time we requested, but he says it’s worth it to make sure I get exactly what I want.
Adas is just a little bit aggressive with his affection, picking me up and holding me in the air for a few photos and leaning me down for a kiss multiple times in order to get the perfect shot. I can tell that he wants this to be as perfect as I do, which helps me feel more confident.
“How are you feeling? Do you need to take a break?” he asks, leading me over to a bench where we rest for a moment.
“I’m fine. I just can’t really believe this is all happening. If I were with anyone else, I would never have been able to do this. My legs are a bit sore, though,” I reply, leaning on him a bit.
“You know that this just means we’re going to start planning a real wedding as soon as we get home, right?” he says, pulling me closer to him and allowing me to put my full weight on him.
I blush, smiling almost uncontrollably at the thought. “I mean, yes, it just didn’t feel real until now.”
He turns his face towards me and kisses my forehead. “What if I told you I already had half of it done for you?”
I shoot up straight, glancing at him in disbelief. “How did you manage to do that without me knowing?”
“Because you’ve been so busy stressing about the photoshoot and the baby. It was actually pretty easy, and it just showed me that you don’t need anymore on your plate right now,” he replies sweetly.
He takes my hand and kisses it. “Just let me handle all of the broader stuff. I’ll obviously still let you pick everything that you want, but I don’t need you getting worked up over anything. You just take care of you and that baby. That’s all I ask.”
I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, and I try to blink them away with no success.
“Fuck, I don’t want to ruin my makeup,” I say, tipping my head back to keep the tears from falling and dragging my makeup along with it.
“Hey, maybe mascara tracks in your makeup will help the photos look more authentic,” he jokes, and I scoff playfully. I love his sense of humor, even if he seems like an oblivious asshole some of the time.
33
RIVER (Six Months Later)
My pregnancy has been more than a little bit challenging.
Even though my nerves have returned to full functionality, there are aspects of my anatomy that were not prepared for the strain of a growing baby inside of me.
For starters, my legs have been slowly gaining muscle tone back. For regular movement, I was making good progress. Having to hold my ever-changing body up on two developing sticks has proven to be a major challenge.
Of course, Adas has been nothing but helpful and devoted to making sure that I never have to suffer alone. I have no idea how I would endure something like this with anyone else. I’ve been binging a lot of trash reality TV, and it seems like so many women put up with the absolute dregs of society in order to just have a man around.
Adas has even been making an effort to be around the house more often, giving more of his responsibility to Erik and Gregory, which in turn keeps them away. They’ve been growing on me a little bit for a while now, especially given the better context of my former lack of relationship. This extra time has given me the ability to truly connect with Adas on every level like a proper wife. We’re so much more in sync with each other than I could imagine being with anyone else.
We’re having a little girl, and I never thought I would see a man so excited to have a daughter in my life. I was expecting him to be overprotective and belligerent about it, given how much of a man’s man he is the rest of the time.
To my surprise, he’s jumped right into the role of a dutiful father before she’s even here. He’s been asking me all kinds of questions about what it’s like to grow up as a little girl, frequently forgetting that I remember almost nothing about my childhood save for a few unhappy memories of my mother’s bipolar mood swings.
I’m reading a book on the couch in the living room while he cooks a stir fry. He suddenly burst over to the living room with the excitement of a golden retriever, nearly startling me right out of my seat.
“Okay, but I really want to know how to like, braid her hair and stuff,” he says excitedly. He’s been so engrossed with the idea of doing her hair and nails that it’s a little bit absurd and comical.
“Adas, she’s not going to have hair for like two years. She’s going to look like larvae when she gets here,” I remind him, unable to keep back a wide smile of satisfaction at how attentive my husband will be.
“I just don’t want to be one of those dads who doesn’t know anything about his daughter. I’m not going to try and make her act like a boy either,” he replies. “If she wants to act like a boy, that’s fine, but I don’t want her to feel like she’s wrong for who she is.”
My heart feels so full and warm at his devotion that I truly feel like it could burst with joy.
“No matter what happens, you’re going to be an amazing father. You were more than attentive when I was still recovering, and you didn’t even know me. You did such an amazing job at taking care of me that I felt crippled by guilt,” I confess.
His demeanor changes from excited to concerned. He approaches me curiously, sitting on the couch next to me and putting my legs over his lap. “Is that bad?”
I smile a little. “No, I couldn’t find the love for you that I thought I was supposed to have, and seeing how much you cared about me made me feel absolutely awful. I felt like I had been given the most amazing husband in the world and didn’t appreciate it at all.”
