Chapter Twenty-Five-Anna
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE-ANNA
T he days melt into one another as the weekend passes. Nico’s been home the whole time, but I know this little slice of heaven will soon pass.
He’s far too busy to play hooky for very long. And I get that. But I don’t want to go back to being bored.
“What’s going on?” he asks, looking up from the banana-blueberry-cinnamon pancake batter he’s working on.
I woke up with a craving, and my awesome husband loves to feed me. It’s a win-win, really.
“I was just thinking, you know, I've never not worked.”
“You mean at the bakery?”
“I mean, in general. I always had something going on, school, projects, clubs, the bakery. Anyway, it's weird for me, not working.”
“Um, Rosebud, I hate to point out the obvious, but you're growing a tiny human inside of you. I’d say that's plenty of work,” he counters.
I grin and roll my eyes, waving my hand and my brand new wedding ring catches my eye. It’s so damn pretty. And it’s perfect. As if he knew I would be concerned over a stone scratching the baby, he managed to find me a ring where the gems are embedded in the platinum band.
And he didn’t get me diamonds. No, he got me a solitary sapphire, as blue and crystalline as his eyes. It’s so Nico. And like him, it’s perfect. Set so deep in the band, it doesn’t catch on anything.
I fucking love it.
This man.
“Yeah,” I continue, “but what about after?”
“After what? Oh, after he's born?” Nico asks, scooping the first spoonful of batter onto the hot griddle.
“Yeah. what do I do after he’s born?”
“Besides raising our baby together, you mean? And I am not saying that to be a sexist jerk?—”
“I know that,” I interrupt him.
Nico is a lot of things, but I know he isn’t one of those men who thinks their women should be in the kitchen or doing laundry. I can tell just by the fact he’s always cooking.
“Okay, good. Well, I don’t know then. What do you want to do? Is there something in particular?”
“Well, I know there is the bakery,” I hedge.
“Did you want to go back to work at the bakery? The woman Angel found to run it is doing great. Especially now that we canned that fucker, Javi.”
“Yeah, I talked to her a few times. She is great. And no, I admit, I don’t want to go back to work at the bakery.”
“Okay,” he says, handing me a plate with a short stack of perfectly golden pancakes.
“Thank you.”
My stomach growls and I grin as I douse them in butter and syrup.
“My pleasure, Rosebud. But finish telling me what you mean.”
“Okay, so, actually I kind of want to, well, it's stupid,” I start, taking a sip of juice.
“Anna. Nothing you say is stupid. Now, just tell me. What do you want to do?”
“It’s just, I, uh, I like to sew,” I say, and I can see his surprise.
“You can sew? ”
“Yeah, my grandma taught me.”
“The quilt on the bed, did you make that? And the pillowcases?” he asks, and I see him piecing it together.
“Yeah,” I tell him shyly.
“Holy shit, Anna. That's fucking awesome. You’re an artist.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would. Everything you make is beautiful. Why didn't you tell me before?”
“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, it just never came up,” I tell him the truth.
Usually, when Nico and I are in the same room, it’s all I can do to remember my own name. The man makes my brain fuzzy.
“Alright, well, we can set up a whole sewing workroom for you right here. We have the space,” he says nonchalantly.
Like this isn’t some life altering big deal.
I learned to sew as a kid, but my father never took it seriously. I don’t think Sammy ever mentioned it at all unless he needed me to hem something.
Excitement hums in my brain, and I think of all the pretty things I’ve been wanting to try out for the baby’s room. Which is something else we need to talk about.
“We do? Um, what about a nursery?” I ask.
“I thought the bedroom next to ours would work. What do you think?” he asks.
And when he sits beside me, I tell him what I think. And he listens.
For the first time in my life, someone listens to what I have to say and I feel important. I feel cherished. Like I matter.
Nico doesn’t dismiss me or my opinions. He encourages them. He asks questions about what I need and what I like.
“You would really do all this for me?”
“Yeah, of course I would, Rosebud.”
“Why?” I have to know.
He’s floored me with all this. I am so full of emotions, I’m near to bursting. My heart is right there on my sleeve, and I can hardly see him for the tears filling my eyes.
“Because, Anna, you’re my wife. You’re the mother of my child.”
Nico stands up, taking our empty plates and loading them into the sink. Then he turns back to look at me, his blue eyes blazing.
“But most of all, it’s because I love you, Anna Fury. ”
Nico disappears as tears fill my eyes, I drop my gaze hiccupping as I openly sob like a complete idiot.
But he’s there suddenly, his strong arms around me, grounding me, supporting me.
He tips my head back, wiping my tears.
“I love you.”
He says it again and I can’t hold it in anymore.
“I love you, too,” I reply, and I throw myself at him.
Thank fuck the king of Vipers is fast as he is strong. I smile through my tears as Nico kisses me sweetly, murmuring his love for me the whole while.
His big hands cup my belly and I place mine on top of his, laughing as our baby kicks to greet his papa.
“I love you both,” he says, dropping to his knees, and Nico kisses my stomach.
And I swoon on my feet.
“Easy, Little Mama.”
He steadies me. His smile is wide, and I bask in it.
So, this is what happy feels like.