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Alex squealed in laughter as his dad lifted him into the air and swiftly brought him back down. Our son was seven months old now. With his dark hair growing out, he looked more like Sig every day, despite having Britney’s eyes.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I could make you a cocktail to relax first.”
“No need. You’ve been home all day with him. Go now while he’s content and happy to see me.”
If there was one thing I’d learned since becoming a mother: when an opportunity arose for a break, I needed to take it.
I escaped into Alex’s nursery and sat in the comfy blue rocking chair in the corner. This had become one of my favorite writing spots. Ever since Alex was about a month old, I’d been writing a book about my surrogacy journey. Without a whole lot of time to write, I had to sneak in words whenever I could.
When Sig and I brought Alex home from the hospital, we decided to settle in his London apartment rather than making the inn our permanent home. The guest room here became Alex’s room. While we’d need a bigger place long term, being in the city for now had its advantages. I loved living near some of my favorite stores and restaurants. I’d enjoy being here as long as I could until we eventually moved to a more family-friendly place, probably somewhere in the countryside. We just needed to find the right property.
About a half hour into my writing time, the door to the nursery slowly opened.
Sig entered alone. I moved my laptop to the ground as he knelt by my feet. He placed his head in my lap and kissed his way from my torso to my breasts to my lips.
“I thought I was supposed to be writing,” I murmured as he nuzzled my neck.
“I realized I never got my kiss after I came home, so I put Alex in the mechanical swing and came to collect.”
“He does love that swing. It’s the only way I can make lunch or go to the bathroom during the day.” I stood. “Sit.” When he did, I positioned myself to straddle him on the rocker.
He put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me down against him. “I missed you today.”
Grinding over him, I moaned. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“If I wasn’t certain Alex will tire of the swing soon, I’d take you right here on this chair,” he rasped. “Anyway, these rocking chairs aren’t meant for the kind of fucking I want to do.”
“I’m gonna get it tonight, aren’t I?”
“If you want it, yeah.”
“I love how you don’t hold back now that I’m not pregnant anymore.”
“Not pregnant…yet,” he teased.
“Oh, you’re bad.”
“You have no idea how badly I want to be with you right now.”
“Well, this surprise visit to my writing cave is definitely a highlight of my day.”
“The best part of myday is always coming home to you.” He looked up at me. “I do worry about you being alone all day. I don’t want you to get depressed.”
“Are you kidding? Alone? Every other day Phil and Kate pop in, and half the time you come home on your lunch break for a quickie while Alex is napping. It’s really not all that much alone time. And even then, am Ireallyalone with Alex?”
“As long as you’re happy. But if you’re not, you’ll tell me, right?”
“You still think I’m gonna leave and go back to the States or something?”
“If you left and went back to the States at this point, I’d be right behind you.”
I laughed. “That’s true. I have a brigade now, don’t I?”
“The Benedictus Brigade.”
“I can’t wait to be a Benedictus.”
We planned to get married sometime in the next year, a traditional wedding with a slew of guests and all the fanfare. I’d already picked out my dress. We just needed to set the date and get our shit together. We’d been too busy adjusting to our new life.
