"I was distracted watching you two professionals," I admit, dunking my sandwich in the soup and tentatively taking a bite as my stomach is a little unsettled at the moment.
Phoenix catches my eye across the table, and the warmth in his gaze still makes my stomach flutter. He reaches over, his fingers brushing mine. "Your mother's always been a rule-breaker."
"Is that why you love her?" Brigit asks.
Phoenix doesn't hesitate. "One of many reasons."
I squeeze his hand, overcome by how seamlessly he's stepped into fatherhood. Three months ago, I feared he might never accept Brigit as his own. Now they have inside jokes I'm not privy to, and he’s involved in every aspect of her life.
"Can we have ice cream after?" Brigit asks, soup dripping down her chin.
"Only if you finish your vegetables," Phoenix answers automatically.
"There aren't any vegetables!" she protests, laughing.
"Then I guess you're getting ice cream." He winks at her, and she beams like he's handed her the world.
When I married Phoenix, I’d hoped for this, but I was cautious in my expectations. He’d changed so much, hurt me a great deal. How could I fully trust him? We've been rebuilding trust piece by piece, day by day. So much so that last month, I finally shared my secret. I showed him my stories I'd published under a pen name while trapped in my parents' house. Romance novels, of all things. But they’d made the money I knew I’d need someday to escape. The money I’d handed to Nanny Fiona to save Brigit.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. Perhaps anger that I’d hidden my bank accounts. Perhaps being told I didn’t need to work anymore. Maybe confusion about why I'd kept something so innocuous hidden.
Instead, Phoenix spent the entire night reading my first novel and telling me he’s sure he’s the sexy Sebastian with dark hair and blue eyes that I’d written about. He wasn’t wrong.
The next day, he brought home a beautiful desk and set it up in what had been my mother’s den. "Your office," he called it, as if my writing deserved space in our life.
Two weeks later, I caught him reading my latest manuscript, making notes in the margins, thoughtful questions about character motivations, suggestions for dialogue. The most interesting note was a comment about how men really experienced orgasms.
I kept waiting for him to ask me to hand over the money, but he never did. And when I finally asked, he said it was mine and if he ever fucked up again, which he didn’t plan to do, but if he did, I’d have it.
Our life has settled into a calm, loving routine. Brigit hasn’t returned to school as Phoenix feels he needs more time to ensure her safety. I suspect he’s being overly cautious as no one has made an attempt on him, his brothers, or the house.
So Nanny Fiona continues to homeschool her and we’ve worked out a few carefully vetted activities such as an art class and martial arts.
“Can Jamie and Emily come over this weekend?” Brigit asks two of her friends from her martial arts class.
"I'll arrange it with their mothers." It seems so normal arranging playdates, but I’d never done it before. Our lives were so sheltered that Brigit didn’t have friends until now.
Phoenix’s phone rings. “It’s Blaise,” he says looking at the screen. He tries not to take business calls during family time, but we know that Jenna is due to have her baby anytime.
“Oh, maybe the baby is here. Do you think so?” Brigit asks, bouncing in her chair.
“Let’s find out.” Phoenix answers the phone. We wait expectantly to learn the news. “How’s mom and baby?”
“She did well, Mama. She had the baby.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Phoenix congratulates his brother and hangs up. “A girl. They’ve named her Nora.”
“Lovely name,” I say, my hand pressing against my stomach. “Do you think it’s a nice name?”
“I like it,” Brigit says. “But I like Elsa better.”
“The ice queen fromFrozen?” Phoenix asks.
“Yep.”
“What if they had a boy?” I ask.
