Chapter 31
ARIA
“I can’t do this anymore,” I groan, leaning back into the couch, feet up, one hand resting on the tight curve of my belly. I can’t even find a freaking comfortable position to lie in.
“Just bear it up. You’ve got about two weeks, give or take a few days, left to go,” Giana supplies, oh so helpfully. I just give her the death glare, which she chuckles at. “Who knew pregnancy would turn you into such a grouchy pants?”
“I can’t wait two weeks. I want this baby out of me now! This tenant needs to be evicted already,” I whine.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could help, but you got into this predicament all on your own,” she jokes.
“You know, I really hate you some days,” I mutter.
“Pssh. As if! You know I’m the light of your life, and you love me,” she teases. I try to shift position again, wincing.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. I’m so uncomfortable these days. Sleeping feels like something I don’t know how to do anymore, and I think she’s on my bladder since I have to pee all the damn time,” I grumble, my hand now absently rubbing my stomach in small circles, feeling a kick where my palm is lying.
“We’ll get through this. Before you know it, the two weeks will fly by,” she tells me, with sympathy in her voice.
“It feels like I’ve been pregnant forever,” I mumble.
“You haven’t been. It’s just been eight and a half months,” she oh-so-not helpfully points out.
“Gee. Thanks.” I roll my eyes.
“I promise I’ll wake up for night feedings… well, if she doesn’t need the tit, that is,” she says, and I chuckle.
“Do you think Enzo would cheat on me while I’m pregnant?” I question out of the blue, and she lets out a snort.
“Why on earth would you even think that? The man literally worships the ground you walk on,” she replies, confidently.
“Because I’ve gained weight and I’m waddling now.
Plus, the back pain is so damn annoying.
I literally can’t even walk five feet without feeling like I’m about to die because of shortness of breath.
And I’m always tired, irritable, and can’t sleep.
I mean, he’s a saint for putting up with all my mood swings and pregnancy brain lately. ”
“No. I don’t think that man would ever cheat on you,” she tells me, in a serious tone.
Tears come out of nowhere, and I start sobbing just as Enzo walks down into the living room, coming from upstairs.
“Whoa! Hey, hey… what’s going on?” he questions, walking over to where I’m sitting up, pulling me into his arms.
“My feet are swollen,” I sob out. “And I’m fat! And you’re going to find another woman who isn’t cranky and who doesn’t snap at you at the drop of a hat.”
“One, I’ll give you a foot rub in a few minutes. Two, you’re not fat. You’re just carrying our baby. Three, there’s no way in hell I’d ever be dumb enough to cheat on my gorgeous-as-fuck wife. Four, snap at me all you like. It’s cute as hell,” he tells me, rubbing my back.
“Oh,” I mumble through my sniffles.
“Yeah, oh. Now, tell me what’s really going on with you,” he coaxes.
“I want this baby to come out already. My back hurts, everywhere is swollen, and I look hideous.”
“You still look perfect to me, baby,” he murmurs, kissing me on the forehead. “Why the tears?”
“Only you would think so because you’ve got some sort of pregnancy kink or something. And I don’t even know why the fuck I’m crying. Hormones?”
“I only have a pregnancy kink when it comes to your sweet as fuck body, baby. And yeah, I’m thinking it’s the hormones because you have been a little sassy, which I love, of course.”
“Who knew pregnancy would make me this miserable?” I pout.
“You’ve been sunny up until now,” he jokes. “I think it’s just because we’re almost to the finish line and you’re too excited to meet her, and that’s why you want her out of there,” he tells me, getting up and then sitting back down on the coffee table.
“Liar,” I laugh. “I’ve been a menace for the last week.”
“Never,” he says, smiling as he pulls my feet onto his lap.
Carefully, as though I’m fragile—which, at this point, I think I am—he begins to rub my foot, applying some pressure that feels amazing.
“They’re really swollen today,” I murmur.
“It looks painful,” he says, as he continues to work his fingers on massaging my feet, easing the tension bit by bit.
“Hmm. That feels so good,” I moan out.
“Yeah?” he questions, moving onto the other foot. “Good. I’m glad it’s helping.”
Giana had left the room when Enzo came down, but now she’s back with a plate of snacks that she hands to me. “Here, I think you might just be hangry.”
“I’m sorry for being so ridiculous, you guys,” I sigh, happily munching on my food.
“You’re not being ridiculous,” Giana says.
“Yeah, you aren’t. You’re allowed to feel how you feel and I’m glad you feel safe enough to express those feelings. I know pregnancy isn’t an easy thing to go through. So, you can curse me out whenever you feel like it,” he tells me with a smile.
“Aw. You’re just the sweetest,” I coo.
“I’ll give you a back rub later,” he promises.
“Yes, please.” We're silent for a while, neither of us speaking as he continues to rub my calves too. And in no time, all of my frustrations from earlier are gone. I don’t even remember what made me so miserable earlier.
“I feel like I’ve been complaining a lot,” I tell him after a while. “And I’ve been such a mess.”
“You’re not a mess, and you’re allowed to complain as much as you want, babe.
You’re my wife and I’m your safe space. So, vent whenever you want.
I promise I’ll listen to whatever it is that’s bothering you and help you through it.
Fall apart as much as you need to, but just know that I’ll always be there to put you back together. ”
It’s hard not to fall more in love with him, especially when he says things like that.
“Why do you have to be so damn perfect?” I sigh.
“Because you make it easy. Though my wife is the perfect one, not me.” He winks. “Are you feeling better now?”
“Yes. Guess Giana was right. I was definitely hangry,” I say and he laughs.
“Great, because I was actually coming down to tell you I’m done with the room upstairs.”
“You are?” I squeal, and he shakes his head. “Ooh! Show me!”
For the past two weeks, he’s been doing something in the room next to ours. He’s been keeping it a secret from me, telling me not to peek, and even though I wanted to, I didn’t. But he stayed home today because he said it would be done.
I didn’t miss any of the packages being delivered to the house either. I have a feeling I know what he’s been up to, but since he was so excited to do it all himself, I was like why not? Less work for me if I’m being honest.
Though it’s not like I even have to lift a finger anyway. Since we’ve been married, he really has been the sweetest, caring, and attentive partner I could have ever asked for.
I can talk to him about anything. I tell him about my dreams and fears, and he always listens, giving me his full attention. He never makes me feel like I’m bothering him with my feelings.
He helps me up from the chair, and we make our way upstairs; his arm wrapped around me since I am actually waddling now. I remember when I was fussing, telling him I wasn’t waddling, and look at me now.
When we get to the closed door, he pauses with a hand on the knob, watching me with a goofy and excited smile on his face. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Close your eyes,” I roll them at him, before doing as I’m told. “No peeking.”
“I won’t peek,” I tell him. I hear him open the door, and then he slowly guides me into the room. “I’m excited to see what you’ve done.”
“I hope you like it because I wanted to do something special for her,” he tells me.
“I’m sure everything you’ve done will look amazing, baby,” I tell him, knowing that for our little girl it will be.
“Okay. Open your eyes!” he says, his voice overflowing with excitement.
I open my eyes, and for a moment, I just stare at the room, speechless. My eyes scan the space as I take everything in. I’m actually in awe right now.
The room is painted in a tea rose color, which gives off a really light pinkish hue. I’m standing in the center, the door to my back as I start to look at everything piece by piece because there’s so much to take in.
The crib is to my right, which looks like something out of a storybook.
It’s a four-poster with a light, gauzy canopy over the entire thing.
The canopy is filled with tiny lights that make it look like a starry night.
There’s even a big rug in front of the crib.
One that’s soft and plush, it almost feels like I’m standing on a cloud or something.
“Wow, the crib and the canopy are beautiful,” I whisper in awe.
“I built it… Well, I just assembled it, but it is pretty cute, right?”
“It is,” I agree.
The window is in the center of the middle wall, and it’s covered with a sheer curtain that drapes all the way to the floor.
There’s a dresser to one side, right in front of the crib, and a comfy-looking accent chair in the middle, in front of the window, and a rocking chair right next to it.
On the left side of the room, there’s a 3D sign hung on the wall with her name spelled out in a beautiful cursive font with pictures of us and her ultrasound scans in frames around it, and right under all of that is her changing table.
And on the side where the door to come in is, that’s where her closet is.
I walk over to it, opening the doors and seeing that all the clothes and other stuff we’ve gotten for her so far are already hung up neatly, along with diapers stacked up.
I even see the clothes Isabella and Giana got me hung up in here, and tears instantly form in my eyes.
“Oh my God. Her room is so beautiful,” I sniffle, and he pulls me into his arms, holding me.
“You really like it?”
“Like is not a strong enough word. I freaking love it.”
“I don’t know… I wanted it to be like she’s in her own little world.”
There are also some 3D butterflies hanging from the ceiling. In one corner, next to the crib, there’s a small table with a stack of books on it, a cubby filled with toys, and even some teddy bears inside her crib.
“Those glow in the dark,” he tells me, pointing to the butterflies.
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. I thought she might like that.”
“I hate to break it to you, but all she’ll care about when she gets home is eating and pooping,” I laugh.
“Well, she’ll look at the pretty lights whenever she’s awake in case we don’t get to her right away, you know? Like, what if I’m busy fucking your pretty cunt and she decides to wake up? Like, obviously, we have to finish before we get her,” he tells me with all the seriousness in the world.
“Oh my God! Shut up.” I can’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness.
My eyes scan the room once more, taking it all in again. “You made her a room fit for a princess.”
“Well, technically, she is royalty… Mafia royalty and of course, she’s our little princess. But I didn’t just want the room to be fit for a princess, I wanted to create a place where she’ll feel safe.”
“I thought we were eventually going to move?” I question.
“We will. And she’ll get another princess room. Matter of fact, she can have as many princess rooms as she wants,” he tells me and I let out a groan.
“Easy there, cowboy. We are not going to spoil her.”
“Oh yes, we will. Besides, her grandparents already plan to do the same. They’ve already turned one of the rooms into a nursery over there.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen it yet?”
“No. I figured we’ll see it together whenever we get around to going over.”
“Your parents are nuts.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Your mom already told me she can’t wait for the nights when the baby gets to stay over,” I tell him.
“What? Who said anything about staying over? She’s not staying anywhere without us!” he grumbles. “I swear those two must have come up with the idea just to annoy me.”
“We’ll talk about it again when you’re sleep-deprived and see how you feel then,” I joke, though I’m secretly glad he doesn’t want her away from us. Truth be told, I’m not so sure I’d be able to let her out of my sight either.
“Do you really love her room?” he asks, voice soft, a little vulnerable.
“I do. It’s perfect for her, and I’m sure she’s going to love it too.”