Chapter 59
Gabriella
“Where should I put these?” asked Chandler, holding up a pair of strappy black high heels that I wouldn’t dream of putting on my swollen feet.
“Ugh,” I whined. “I miss my cute shoes. And my tiny feet.”
I tossed the shirt I was folding into a nearby box and leaned against the wall of the closet, resting my hands over my even bigger belly.
Every time I thought I was done growing, I seemed to pop even more.
I pouted over my shoe predicament, looking up at Chandler from the lush rug strewn across the wood floor.
“Your new feet are just as cute,” he said, kneeling in front of me and setting the strappy shoes aside.
I lifted one and attempted to wiggle my chubby toes, which was just laughable at that point.
Chandler burst out laughing alongside me.
“You still love me?” I asked, knowing the answer, but it was nice to hear with my pregnancy hormones all over the place.
“Always. Chubby toes or not.” He smiled, leaning in and planting a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“Now, where do you want me to put the shoes?” he asked, standing back up and looking around at the closet we still had to pack up.
“That box is fine,” I said, pointing to the large cardboard box stacked on several others.
I watched him place them in a shoe bag and set them in the box, before moving through the rest of my shoes on the shelf.
He had been the one who had packed and boxed most everything so far, while I usually found a comfortable spot to facilitate.
It was about all I could do, since bending over and lifting heavy weren’t options at this point.
I couldn’t believe we were moving tomorrow.
Just two weeks ago, I had driven Chandler to the brownstone I had fallen in love with all those months ago, hoping he would fall in love with it too.
Thankfully, his sentiments were the same as mine and I called the realtor up that night telling her not to put it on the market.
I was willing to pay well over asking price to make sure it ended up being ours, but didn’t end up having to.
The owners were happy their old home was going to a growing family.
It was my first ever “big girl” purchase.
I had spent my life working and trying to earn my place in my father’s shadow, all the while earning a steady stream of income.
My father was proud of my independence and my responsibility, which was why he gave me early access to my trust fund.
I had been sitting on over a billion dollars for the past few years, never spending a lick of it, as I lived paycheck to paycheck. And they were generous paychecks.
As proud as I was of myself, I never really talked about it with anyone.
I internally celebrated my success, but hadn’t celebrated it with friends or any romantic interests.
I didn’t want to come off as boastful to my friends, and I never found a man who stuck around long enough to share it with.
Any man I had come close to being romantically involved with was turned off by my independence and “obsession with work,” as one had said to me.
And then it came to feeling like I could trust my finances with someone, wondering if they would be into me for the right reasons, and not just see dollar signs. It wasn’t easy to trust people when I was attached to the name Harold Enterprises.
Since being with Chandler, who was secure in not only who he was as a man, but a businessman as well with an empire all his own, I didn’t feel the need to hide it anymore.
I could be proud of my success, and I knew I could also fight for what I wanted without him thinking I was entitled or “obsessed” with work.
He was equally as obsessed, which made us partners well suited for each other.
Even though we were both stubborn powerhouses, we knew when to give and take.
Right now, he was pulling the weight when I physically couldn’t.
Of course, we had hired movers to help us with the big move tomorrow, but we had been doing as much as we could ourselves.
We wanted to have our hands in this big life change, and make memories along the way to share with our daughter, even if they just included me sitting on the floor and pointing to boxes.
I watched Chandler lift a box of my fancier dresses, heavy from the beaded detailing and heavy trains.
His muscles strained under his white t-shirt, and it was hard not to pounce on him here in this closet, if I could even move that quickly.
He must have noticed my stare because he looked at me and raised a brow before wiping away at his damp forehead.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He chuckled.
“You have no idea,” I practically purred.
“Is that so?” He smirked, walking toward me with that familiar look in his eye.
“Uh-uh-uh.” I wagged a finger at him. “Too much work to do! The movers are going to be here at the crack of dawn.”
Chander sighed dramatically and went to pick up another box.
“Have it your way,” he said over his shoulder with a pouty look on his face, but my eyes were drawn to his ass in those gray sweats.
I stifled a giggle and pulled myself to my feet, feeling a little burst of energy.
I could at least start packing up the bathroom.
As I strode through the bedroom, I felt a little tinge of sadness that we were leaving this place I had only called home for a short while.
This was where he brought me after my hospital scare, never leaving my side unless it was to get me a late-night craving from the corner store. This was where I said, “I love you.”
It was bittersweet to leave this tower, but I knew it had served its purpose.
It had been our first home together, and now we were about to create a new one that would be where we brought our daughter home for the first time.
I placed my hand on my belly tenderly, hoping she could feel my love in that moment, and always.
The next morning, after a sleepless night of tossing and turning, partly because I struggled to get comfortable, the movers arrived at 6 a.m. I yawned as I sleepily opened the door for them, Chandler behind me at the ready with a clipboard to ensure everything went smoothly.
I laughed at him last night as he wrote out his list. Always the CEO, even when it came to moving.
I pointed the movers in Chandler’s direction, where he began assigning tasks to these men who had probably been doing this for years.
Eventually, I pulled him and his clipboard away so the men could get to work on bringing the boxes down and packing the furniture. With an elevator and being on the top floor, it was going to be a long day. I plopped down on the couch with a mug of tea and rubbed my eyes sleepily.
“I miss coffee,” I grumbled.
“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Chandler, guiltily pouring himself a steaming mug of coffee.
“Nope.” I shook my head defeatedly. Even though Chandler had bought me practically every pregnancy pillow on the market.
A donut. A worm. A U-shape. I still couldn’t sleep well.
My legs were as restless as my mind, and I’d often get up to pace the apartment so as not to bother Chandler as he slept peacefully.
“Maybe we should try this new pillow. My mother saw it on the shopping network.”
“No more pillows, please.” I held my hand up and laughed. “We’ll be drowning in them. Plus, she will be here before you know it.”
“For more sleepless nights…” said Chandler warily.
I groaned. Chandler strode over and ran his hand through my tangled hair from all the tossing and turning. “You’ve got this, sweetie. I wish I could sleep for you. When she’s here, I’ll get up and feed her and change her. Whatever you need.”
I looked up at him gratefully, wondering how I had found this man, and remembering how different he was when I first met him.
It was almost laughable where we were now.
This was the guy who left me to fend for myself, drenched in coffee on a busy street in Manhattan.
Now, here he was telling me everything I wanted to hear and meaning it.
“Thanks, honey.”
“I better go check on the movers,” he said, picking up his clipboard from the coffee table and heading for the elevator where they had embarked to the parking garage just a few minutes before.
I spent the rest of the day packing up smaller items, while Chandler oversaw the movers and bigger items. It was exhausting just watching everyone, and I felt guilty for not contributing more.
The movers and Chandler had insisted I post up on the couch, so I did for some time, just watching them move around me in a blur.
Around lunchtime, we ordered two large pizzas for them to share and give them fuel to finish the rest of the apartment.
They finally wrapped up around 6 p.m., leaving Chandler and me in the empty apartment with the night sky as our backdrop through the large windows.
I would miss the view the most. We stood in the middle of the living room, hand in hand, looking around the large, vacant room.
It felt strange seeing it emptied out, and even the softest words echoed off the walls.
“Whatcha thinking?” asked Chandler, giving my hand a squeeze.
“How I’ll miss this place…”
“Really?” he asked in surprise.
“I know I wasn’t here very long, but…” I shrugged.
“We still made memories here,” he said, finishing my sentence.
“Mhmm.”
“It feels cold in here now.” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, even though it really didn’t have anything to do with the temperature.
“Cold and empty.” He nodded.
“Kind of like you when I met you,” I joked, a smirk crossing my lips as I felt his gaze dart to me. He playfully poked me in the side, making me cry out.
“You did not just say that!”
I swatted his hand away and laughed loudly.
“It’s kind of true.” I shrugged.
“Well, you weren’t exactly a ray of sunshine either,” he muttered as he rolled his eyes.
“Look at us now,” I said, leaning my head against his shoulder.
He wrapped his arm around me and his thumb gently stroked my side. We stared out at the city skyline, its lights sparkling against a black, moonless sky.
“I’m excited to build a warm, comfortable home with the man you are now,” I said, turning to press my lips to his shoulder.
He turned to face me, his gaze intent as it washed over my face as if he had never seen me before. My heart swelled as I looked back up at him.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered. “But I think we should make one more memory here…”
I gasped as I watched him get down on one knee. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small, black velvet box. He carefully pried the lid open, but my eyes were on him and him only.
“Gabriella Harold. I went from wanting you out of my life to not knowing how to live without you. I love you with every stubborn part of me. Will you marry me?”
Through tears, I stammered yes, kneeling on the floor in front of him and kissing him repeatedly, before he slid a perfect, solitaire diamond on my finger.