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“What’s wrong? You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What do you mean, a look?”
“The scowl, like you’re unhappy about something. Tell me straight. Did the girls say something?”
“No, it’s not that. Why, did youdosomething?”
“No, of course not.” He glares at me, eyes narrowed. “This conversation is getting away from me right now.”
I push him back lightly, taking a deep breath. “Okay, just listen. Please don’t reply until I’m finished, okay?”
He walks to the bed and sits down. The bastard remains shirtless, which he knows distracts the hell out of me, but I’m staying on track.
“Go ahead,” he says.
“Right, so.” I pace, feeling nervous. “We found out yesterday that the baby’s a boy—”
He gasps. “We did?”
“Stop it,” I say, smiling despite myself. “Since he’s a boy, we’re going to need a boy name for him, right? And I’ve been thinking a lot about what name we’d give him. I want it to be meaningful, you know? Since it’s our first child. And I know this isn’t the best name in the world by any means, but I wanted to name him after Grandpop, which means he’ll be Martin. I was hoping we could name our baby Martin.” I face him, heart racing. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.
He only smiles. “I’d love that.”
“Really?” I step toward him. “Are you sure? I know we didn’t discuss this—”
“I love you, Renata, and naming our child Martin would be an honor. Your grandfather deserves that much and more.”
“Thank you.” Tears roll down my cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m crying right now!”
“Because you’re still mourning him, but maybe this is one little piece you’ll be able to carry with you.” He walks over and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. “Martin. It’s a good name. Martin. My son, Martin.”
“You don’t hate it?”
“I love it. I love you. This is perfect.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I tilt my chin to him, grinning huge. “It’s not bad at all.”
