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Everyone in the room was equally horrified and intrigued by his demand and my lack of opinion on the matter. To be truthful, I was grateful to him. He’s spent nearly eight years making every decision for me, and I love it and trust him, but I’ve never loved him taking control as much as I did in that birthing room. I’d been ready to jump him then and there.
When I enthusiastically nodded my agreement, there were sighs of relief throughout the room. Many of the nurses, plus my doctor, were quite familiar with us, but some held the opinion that he was a controlling ass.
He is, but he’s my ass, and I love every minute of it. I wouldn’t change our life for anything. Not even those images that exposed me all those years ago.
The Heart Foundation is now worldwide and has helped over a hundred thousand women in situations similar to mine. We’ve even begun assisting men. Unfortunately, with each passing day, the demand continues to grow, and I hate that, but I’m elated that we’re here to help.
“This one.” Roman exits my closet, annoyed that he can’t find a dress that doesn’t make me sexy with all my post-baby curves. We’ve gone through four dresses already.
“You’re sure?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“What choice do I have, though? There isn’t time to order you a paper-sack wardrobe before we need to leave.” I bite my lip, wishing to laugh, but I know he’s completely serious.
“It’s your fault, you know.” His dark head whips up to mine at that statement.
“How the fuck is it my fault?” His eyes heat up.
“You kept me knocked up for nearly seven years,” I point out, and his jaw ticks.
“You’re the one who’s irresistible,” he accuses. Holding the dress out for me, he helps me into it before spinning me around and zipping up the back. “Christ, I’m not going to survive this.”
This being our five-year-old’s birthday party in our backyard. “I’m sure you will, and if it’ll make you feel better, the doctor has given me the all-clear, and Winter and Christmas are taking all the kids for the night, even the twins.” I had planned on surprising him with that.
“How in the hell did you manage that?” He’s incredulous. “You know what? I don’t care; you did it, and I have you to myself.”
Turning to face him, I caress my hands up his chest and circle his neck before pushing up on my toes to kiss him. “I love you, Roman Heart.”
His eyes soften as he whispers back, “I love you more, Valentine Heart.”
One short sentence has never sounded so good.
The End!
