11. Bella
— ? —
Bella
Eight weeks after Marcus’s sentencing, I wake to the smell of coffee. I stretch lazily, my hand automatically going to my stomach, which is just starting to show the slightest curve.
I’m four months pregnant now, and while the morning sickness has mostly passed, I still have moments where certain smells make me queasy. But coffee isn’t among them, thankfully.
I get out of bed and pad into the kitchen, where I find Adrian at the stove, cooking breakfast. He’s wearing just pajama pants and an apron, and the sight makes me smile.
“Good morning,” I say, wrapping my arms around him from behind.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Adrian replies, turning to kiss me. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I say honestly. “Really good, actually.”
And it’s true. The past two months have been transformative. With Marcus in prison and the trial behind us, I’ve finally been able to focus on healing - really healing, not just surviving.
Adrian and I have been seeing a couples therapist, Dr. Sarah Bennett (no relation to my friend Sarah), who’s been helping us process everything we’ve been through and build a strong foundation for our future together.
We’ve talked about my trauma from the wedding, from Marcus’s betrayal, from the attempted murder.
We’ve talked about Adrian’s guilt over not warning me sooner, his fear of losing me, his own trauma from nearly being killed.
And slowly, week by week, session by session, we’ve been healing.
“I made your favorite,” Adrian says, gesturing to the plates on the counter. “French toast with extra syrup.”
“You’re spoiling me,” I say, but I’m already reaching for a plate.
“You’re carrying my child,” Adrian says, his hand coming to rest on my stomach. “I’m going to spoil you for the next six months and beyond.”
I lean into him, savoring the warmth of his touch, the love in his eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Adrian says, kissing me softly. “Now eat. You need to keep your strength up.”
We eat breakfast together, talking about our plans for the day. Adrian has a meeting with his sustainable energy team, and I have a doctor’s appointment to check on the baby.
“I wish I could come with you,” Adrian says, looking genuinely disappointed. “But this meeting has been scheduled for weeks.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “It’s just a routine checkup. Sarah’s coming with me.”
My friend Sarah has been incredible throughout my pregnancy, attending appointments with me when Adrian can’t make it, helping me shop for maternity clothes, and generally being the supportive best friend I’ve always known her to be.
“Tell her I said thank you,” Adrian says. “For being there for you.”
“I will,” I promise.
Later that morning, Sarah and I sit in the waiting room of my obstetrician’s office. I’m nervous, even though I know this is just a routine appointment. Every appointment feels momentous, a chance to confirm that the baby is healthy and growing.
“How are you feeling?” Sarah asks, noticing my fidgeting.
“Nervous,” I admit. “I know it’s silly, but I can’t help it.”
“It’s not silly,” Sarah says, squeezing my hand. “You’re going to be a mom. That’s huge.”
“I know,” I say, placing my hand on my stomach. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it’s real. That I’m going to have a baby with Adrian. That we’re building this life together.”
“You deserve it,” Sarah says firmly. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”
“Isabella Hayes?” a nurse calls from the doorway.
I stand, and Sarah follows me into the examination room. The ultrasound technician is warm and friendly, and she quickly gets to work, spreading gel on my stomach and moving the wand around.
“There’s your baby,” she says, pointing to the screen.
I stare at the image, tears filling my eyes. There’s a tiny person in there, with a beating heart and little arms and legs. My baby. Adrian’s baby. Our baby.
“Everything looks perfect,” the technician says. “The baby is measuring right on track, and the heartbeat is strong and healthy.”
“Can you tell the gender yet?” I ask.
“Not quite,” the technician says. “But in another month or so, we should be able to tell if you want to know.”
I nod, still staring at the screen. I can’t wait to tell Adrian about this, to show him the ultrasound pictures, to share this moment with him.
After the appointment, Sarah and I go to lunch at a nearby café. We order salads and sandwiches, and Sarah fills me in on her own life - her new job, her budding relationship with a guy she met at a friend’s party.
“He sounds great,” I say, genuinely happy for her. “When do I get to meet him?”
“Soon,” Sarah promises. “I want to make sure it’s serious first. I don’t want to introduce him to everyone and then have it fizzle out.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “But I have a good feeling about this one.”
“Me too,” Sarah says, smiling. “It’s nice, you know? To be excited about someone again. To feel like there’s potential for something real.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I say, thinking about Adrian.
After lunch, Sarah drops me off at home. Adrian isn’t back yet, so I take the opportunity to relax on the couch with a book. But I can’t focus on the words. My mind keeps drifting to the ultrasound, to the tiny life growing inside me, to the future Adrian and I are building together.
When Adrian finally arrives home, I practically tackle him at the door.
“Whoa,” he says, laughing as he catches me. “What’s this about?”
“I have something to show you,” I say, pulling him over to the couch.
I hand him the ultrasound pictures, and I watch as his expression transforms from curiosity to wonder to pure joy.
“This is our baby,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “This is really our baby.”
“Really our baby,” I confirm, tears streaming down my face.
Adrian pulls me into his arms, holding me tight. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for this gift. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for building this life with me.”
“Thank you for saving me,” I reply. “For giving me a reason to fight. For showing me what real love looks like.”
We sit there for a long time, just holding each other, looking at the ultrasound pictures, marveling at the miracle of the life we’ve created together.
That night, as we’re getting ready for bed, Adrian brings up something that’s been on his mind.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “About the wedding.”
“What about it?” I ask, joining him.
“I want to marry you before the baby comes,” Adrian says. “I want us to be a family - officially - before our child is born.”
I feel a warmth spread through my chest. “I want that too.”
“So let’s do it,” Adrian says, taking my hands in his. “Let’s get married. Soon. We don’t need a big elaborate wedding. We just need each other and the people we love.”
“What are you suggesting?” I ask, smiling.
“I’m suggesting we get married in the next few months,” Adrian says. “Something small and intimate. Maybe at that cabin in the mountains. Just us, Sarah, a few close friends and family. Nothing fancy, nothing stressful. Just a celebration of our love and our commitment to each other.”
“That sounds perfect,” I say, and I mean it. After the disaster of my first wedding, the idea of something small and intimate is incredibly appealing.
“Yeah?” Adrian asks, his eyes lighting up.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”
Adrian kisses me, and I can feel his joy, his excitement, his love. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”
“I can’t wait to be your wife,” I reply.
Over the next few weeks, we start planning our wedding. True to Adrian’s vision, we keep it small and simple. We book the cabin for a weekend in early spring, when the weather will be mild and the trees will be starting to bloom.
Sarah is my maid of honor, of course, and Adrian asks his best friend and business partner, Hunter, to be his best man. We invite only our closest friends and family. My mom is there, and my dad even comes out of his long hiding to attend.
“This is so much better than a big wedding,” I tell Sarah as we’re shopping for my dress. “No stress, no drama, just love and celebration.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Sarah says. “You deserve a wedding that’s about you and Adrian, not about impressing other people or living up to expectations.”
We find the perfect dress - a simple, elegant gown in soft ivory, with a flowing skirt that will accommodate my growing belly. It’s nothing like the elaborate dress I wore for my first wedding, and that’s exactly what I want.
As the wedding approaches, I find myself getting more and more excited. This is really happening. I’m really going to marry Adrian, the man who saved me, who loves me, who’s given me a future I never dreamed possible.
One evening, about two weeks before the wedding, Adrian and I are lying in bed, talking about our future.
“I’ve been thinking about names,” Adrian says, his hand resting on my stomach. “For the baby.”
“Oh?” I say, intrigued. “What have you come up with?”
“If it’s a boy, I like Alexander,” Adrian says. “Alexander Sterling. It’s strong, classic.”
“I like that,” I say. “What about for a girl?”
“I was thinking Sophia,” Adrian says. “Sophia Grace Sterling.”
“That’s beautiful,” I say, tears pricking my eyes. “I love both of those names.”
“Good,” Adrian says, leaning down to kiss my stomach. “Did you hear that, little one? We’re figuring out what to call you.”
I laugh, running my fingers through Adrian’s hair. “You’re going to be such a good father.”
“I hope so,” Adrian says, looking up at me. “I want to give our child everything - love, security, happiness. I want them to grow up knowing they’re cherished and valued.”
“They will,” I assure him. “Because they’ll have you as a father. And that’s the greatest gift any child could ask for.”
Adrian moves back up to kiss me, and the kiss quickly deepens, becomes more heated. His hands roam over my body, and I arch into his touch, desire flooding through me.
“I love you,” Adrian murmurs against my lips. “I love you so much, Bella.”