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If only she could see that.
I never knew just how hard it was to earn someone’s trust once it had been broken. As it’s not a physical thing that I can see, it makes it a nearly impossible task. I never know where I stand. I mean, shit. It would be helpful if she could get a container or something like that and fill it up a little each time I earn a bit of her trust, and when it’s full . . . BAM, I’m back in the game.
On my imaginary trust scale, I think I’m doing alright. Each day, she allows me to touch her for just a little longer. Yesterday, she let me hold her hand while I was driving her back to her apartment after having a family dinner at Sean’s place. It was only for a moment, and she refused to make eye contact with me the whole time, but it was a step in the right direction. It felt good having her soft hand in mine again. Apart from that, she allows me to live with my hands on her stomach, feeling our babies as they grow and move inside her.
It’s so fucking incredible to feel, and while I love being able to touch her like that, I’d give my left nut just to be able to kiss her and take her to bed, to really show her how much she means to me.
How could I have been such a fool to not want this? I just wish I hadn’t wasted all that time and hurt her. Our future could have been a reality a long time ago if it wasn’t for me.
“Excuse me, Sir,” a chirpy voice asks from beside me. I’m ripped out of my longing thoughts for Bri as I turn to the tiny saleswoman beside me. “Do you need help with anything?”
Glancing back to the massive range of bassinets before me and knowing damn well I don’t know how to navigate this shit, I turn back to the woman with a tight smile. “Yeah, actually, that would be great. My . . . ahh,” shit. What do I call her? My girlfriend, my friend, my partner, my baby momma? Fucked if I know, but I should at least enjoy the moment. “My wife is seven months pregnant, and we haven’t got a thing, so I thought I’d surprise her and get it all.”
The woman’s face lights up as she gives me a beaming smile, looking at me like some kind of sucker she can milk every last dollar out of, and it’s clear. “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” she tells me. “Do you know the sex of the baby?
“No, but my wife believes they’re boys,” I explain.
“Plural?” she questions. “Twins?”
“Indeed.”
Her grin widens, and I can practically see the dollar signs in her eyes
“Oh, beautiful,” the woman coos. “Where would you like to start?”
“Umm . . . I don’t know. I’ve never done this before,” I tell her as my eyes scan the store again.
“Okay, sure,” she says as though preparing to take on the challenge. “When you said you haven’t got anything, how literal were you being?”
“Extremely,” I grunt.
“Right,” she says. “Well, how about we start with furniture and then we can move to the smaller things?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Before I know it, we both get carried away. We pick out a bedroom suite with cribs, a changing table, a set of drawers, and shelves for all their toys; which is when she convinces me that a nice soft mat for the babies to play on would look great on the floor, so I pick one of them too.
We move to the next section and add two mattresses to the list and a shitload of neutral-colored bedding. I would have liked to pick out a blue or pink bedding set, but that’s just something I’ll have to learn to get over. Besides, knowing Bri, she would have gone for the neutral colors too.
Oh, what the hell? I grab two sets of the blue bedding off the shelf and throw them into the very full cart anyway. If the babies turn out to be little girls, we could always keep the blue bedding on hand just in case. At least, that’s what the saleswoman tells me right before convincing me to pick up a handful of pink sets too.
Next up, a bath and bassinets.
The further we get through the store, the more excited I become, like a child in a candy store who was just given an unlimited credit card. I think I’m finally understanding why chicks enjoy shopping so much. I honestly thought this shit was going to be daunting and boring, but knowing I’m setting my kids up with a good start at life makes me feel like I’m going to be the best goddamn daddy on the planet. Hell, I might even give Sean a run for his money.
