Chapter 10
Henry
I carry the bags into the room, setting them on the floor and shaking out my arms. “Jesus, Natalie. Did you buy out the store?”
She scoffs. “I could have if I wanted to.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I think you did.”
Waving a hand in dismissal, she starts removing the items from the various bags.
I watch her with appreciation, something tugging at my heart strings.
I don’t remember ever having a room like this when I was younger, even when I was a child.
Until I was a teenager, my room was bland and void of personality.
After I snuck out once to attend a concert, I returned home and put up a few signed posters.
But when I came home from school that afternoon, they were ripped down, my room ransacked of any “delinquent” material, as my father put it.
“What if she doesn’t want all these pink and purples?” I ask her. The last few months have flown by, and we’ve barely talked about what happens when the baby actually comes.
Natalie frowns. “Well, when she’s old enough and tells me she doesn’t like it, we can change it to whatever she wants.”
I grunt. “Even if it’s all green?”
Her nose turns up at the mention of her least favorite color. “Even that. Though I’ll actively avoid spending time here.”
Shaking my head with a low chuckle, I peek into the bags with her, pulling out miscellaneous items. “My father never really cared to personalize my room. I doubt it was even fit for a child.”
Her arm rests against mine. “What happened to your mother?”
I shrug. “I don’t remember her much. She died when I was young. Brain aneurysm, but there aren’t any photos of us, so I doubt she was the maternal type anyway.”
Natalie makes me turn to face her, cupping my cheek. “I wish my mother was still alive. She’d love our baby as much as us, but our child will be loved because we know what it’s like to not be.”
I swallow the ache growing in my throat. “I hope so.”
She smiles. “Though I can’t promise she won’t be spoiled.”
I grab her, patting her butt with a grin. “Of course not. She’s not even here yet and her mother has created a whole mini store in our home.”
With a sigh, Natalie kisses me and then pushes away to go back to the bags. “Have you given any more thought to names? Take the tags off all this so we can wash it.”
“Can’t Sarah do this?” I grumble under my breath, grabbing the stack of clothes from her hands.
She glares at me. “I want to do everything for my child. Maybe when we’re in the thick of it, and exhausted, I’ll gladly take Sarah’s help. But my mother did everything for us. I want—if she could do it, so can I.”
I lean over, kissing her forehead. “I was joking. I got used to doing my own laundry when I was living in the apartment. I’m not incapable.”
Moving to the dresser, I grab the small trash can in the corner. “And no, not really. It feels strange naming another human.”
She hums. “It does, especially when her last name will carry so much power.”
I pull a few tags off. “Ella?”
“Ellie?” Natalie counters, then laughs when she sees my crinkled nose. “What was your mother’s name?”
“Ruth, and that’s a hard pass.”
She snickers. “I hate to agree, and I love my mother, but Brandi is not my favorite.”
I withhold my comment that the only Brandis I know were passed around the club or worked the pole, because I don’t want to disrespect her mother. But I fully support not naming our child that either.
“We still have a few more weeks to decide, so no point in stressing about it now.”
Natalie laughs. “I stress over accidentally sleeping on one side for too long. Names are absolutely up there.”
“We’ll find a name for our little princess,” I say, my hands holding up the small piece of clothing. God, a few weeks and I’ll have a baby that can fit into this. It’s wild how much my life has changed in a few short months.