“Come in me, Roman. Put a baby in me. Please,” I beg him.
“Are you sure?” he rasps, barely holding on.
“Yes. I want our dream together. I want a family!”
“I love you!” he grits out as he falls over the edge.
I feel his release in me, and I follow quickly. I fall onto his chest, and his arms instantly engulf me. He holds me to him, and I don’t move. I can’t move. I don’t want to move.
Because I’m exactly where I want to be.
“I love you too,” I tell him.
Epilogue I
Cecilia
“Make a left here!” I instruct, and Roman listens, turning the car into a lot.
“Sunshine, I know where your doctor’s office is,” he teases.
I laugh, knowing he tracks me every time I leave the house. I don’t mind. In fact, I prefer it. I feel safer this way. So, yes he tracks me, but it’s with my permission. Well, that’s only when he doesn’t come with me.
He thinks we’re here for an IUD, and that I’ll need a driver afterwards.
But he doesn’t know the surprise I have for him.
He holds my hand the entire way through the building, then I check in at the counter. We sit in the waiting room, and I have to hide my grin at his solemn face. I know he wants a baby as much as I do, and I hate lying to him, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I also didn’t want to tell him until I knew for sure.
“Cecilia Montclair!” a medical assistant calls from the doorway.
We make our way in, and I step on the scale. I note the few pounds I’ve already gained, but Roman smartly doesn’t comment on it.
We go through the regular questions. Roman pays close attention the entire time.
“When was your last period?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I try to hide the glee in my voice.
“Is there any chance you’re pregnant?” she asks, then glances at Roman and winks at me, obviously realizing with Roman as my husband, there’s a big chance I’m pregnant.
“Yes,” I tell her.
Roman sucks in a breath, and his knee starts bouncing anxiously.
She hands me a cup to pee in. I head to the bathroom and do my business. I give it to her, and she leaves.
As soon as she’s out the door, Roman’s on me.
“Cecilia, is there really a chance you’re pregnant?” he asks, and I can hear the hope in his voice.
I reach into my purse and pull out a zip-block. Sitting inside are two pregnancy tests.
“There’s more than a chance,” I tell him as I hand him the bag.
He inspects them, and I can tell the moment he registers what the two pink lines on each one means.
Pregnant.
