Epilogue #2
"Oh, the kitten." I break away from my husband, and he lets me. I cover the Tiramisu, slide it into the refrigerator, and when I turn, I find my husband holding a beautiful brown kitten with the most piercing blue eyes.
"Oh, my gosh." I clasp my hands together. "She’s beautiful."
The kitten stares at me balefully, then meows again.
I walk over to them, and stare at her. "Can I… Can I touch her?"
He laughs. "She’s yours, baby."
"Aww." I rub my forefinger on her soft downy forehead. She blinks, then looks at me, and meows again.
"I think she wants you to hold her—" Before he can complete the sentence, she wriggles out of his hold, and I catch her.
"She’s so tiny," I hold her up. "It is a she, right?"
"It is," he agrees.
I hold her gaze, and she stares back.
"Hey, cutie, where did you come from?"
"Karma and Michael Sovrano’s cat Andy fathered them."
"Are they friends of yours?" I continue cuddling the kitten. “Wait, Karma Sovrano?" I look past the kitten. "You mean Karma West Sovrano?"
He nods.
"The famous designer Karma West Sovrano whose wedding dress I wore?"
He nods again.
"You… you… know her?" I squeak.
"I know Michael. And when I found out they had a litter of kittens they were looking to give away, I went over and got you one."
"Thank you." I lean past the kitten, and my husband lowers his head, but before our lips can meet again, the kitten meows, then digs her nails into my hand.
"Ouch! Sorry, baby; I wasn’t ignoring you." I straighten and smile down at the irate kitten, who’s looking at me with an expectant look on her face.
"Oh, did you want me to kiss you?" I press my lips to her forehead instead.
"Hey, that was my kiss."
I look up to find my husband pouting. No, really. He’s pouting. I’ve never seen Nate pout. But honest to goodness, the expression on his face is so disgruntled now, I laugh. "Oh, my god, you’re jealous."
"No, I’m not." He stiffens.
"Of a kitten. You’re jealous of the kitty."
Said kitty makes mewling noise and I bring her to my breast and press her into my chest. She curls in and begins to purr.
My husband looks from me to the kitten then back to me. "And that was my hug." His lips turn down.
"Aww, baby." I close the distance between us, and he wraps his big arms about me. I snuggle into him, and the kitten snuggles into me. If I could purr as well, I would. "I’m so happy," I whisper.
"I’m glad you are." He tucks my head under his chin. "I think I’m going to start working from home for half the week."
"I’d like that." My stomach gurgles.
"That way, I could be on a conference call, and you could… you know—"
"What?" I frown.
"Give me a blowjob?"
"What?" I rear back, and when I look up, his eyes gleam.
"Talk about multi-tasking. I could be chewing out executives around the world, and you could be chewing me out… Literally."
"Har, har." I scowl. "That’s not funny."
My stomach heaves again, and I taste bile on my tongue. "Oh, no."
"What’s wrong?"
I shove the kitten at him, then race out of the bakery and through the kitchen, up the hallway, into the bathroom and to the commode before I’m sick.
Everything I ate at lunch and breakfast seems to pour out of me.
Then, he lifts my hair up out of the way and presses his palm to my forehead, holding me as I retch.
When I’m done, he flushes, then urges me to sit back against the bathroom wall.
He wets a washcloth and wipes my mouth. "Better? "
I manage to nod.
"Do you need to rinse out your mouth?"
I nod again. He scoops me up. I don’t protest. He walks over to the sink and lowers me to my feet. I open the tap, take a cup and swirl the water around my mouth, then spit it out. Once I’ve repeated the motion a few times, he scoops me up again in his arms and carries me into the bedroom.
"The kitten?"
"She’s in her basket; I’ll get her in a second." He lays me down on the bed, then sits down next to me. "I should call the doctor."
"No, not now."
He frowns. "You don’t look so good."
"I… I’ll be okay." I glance away.
"Baby, you’re not okay. Your skin is pale, you have circles under your eyes, and you look exhausted."
"Nothing’s wrong with me," I insist.
"Why don’t we let the doctor decide that?"
"Why don’t you get the kitten first? She must be feeling lonely."
He looks like he’s about to refuse.
"Please?" I flutter my eyelashes at him. "Please, baby."
He sighs. "I can’t deny you anything when you look at me like that; you know that, right?
" He rises to his feet and stalks off, then returns holding the basket.
He places it by the side of the bed, opens it and brings out the kitten.
It mewls again, and when he places it on my chest, it instantly curls into a ball and begins to purr.
"Aww, she’s a cutie-pie."
"Do you have a name for her?"
I nod.
"Is it Cocoa?"
I laugh. "You remembered."
"How could I forget anything you tell me, Starling."
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I sniffle.
"Hey, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry."
"It’s the hormones."
"Oh, is it that time of the month?" He frowns. "Are you getting a migraine? Is that why you puked?"