He didn’t come outside of me, but I’ve still ended up a mess. I can feel cum dripping down the inside of my leg. And I have to add, “If I weren’t already pregnant, I would be now.”
Victor lets out a vocal laugh. I love the sound of it.
But then, he sobers to sign, “I love you, Dawn. I never stopped. And I never will.”
His dark eyes bore into mine. It feels like he’s offering me his soul. Not just his love.
“Victor…” I start to say something about how we should take things slow this time and not dive in headfirst like we did when we were teenagers.
But before I can, he drops a kiss on my shoulder and signs, “We've got to get showered and dressed. We're meeting Phantom in New York for an early dinner at L-A G-R-E-N-O-U-I-L-L-E.”
I can only assume the name of the place he spelled out is some kind of fancy French restaurant. But… “What? No! How are we meeting Phantom in a few hours? It's Sunday! Why would you even agree to that?”
Victor’s hopped up from the bed, and he’s heading for the bathroom, but he turns around to answer my question. “Because he wants to introduce me to his fiancée.”
“Wait, Phantom’s engaged?” I nearly screech.
I try but fail to sit all the way up in bed. My now eight months pregnant belly doesn't want me to be great. So I kind of have to beach whale on my side to tack on additional questions about Victor’s surprise announcement. “To who? How? When?”
“That’s why we’re going to New York to find out,” Victor explains patiently before coming back over to help me up from his super-low bed.
“Do you want to use the shower in your room?” he asks after he gets me into a standing position. He cups my breast. “Or take one with me?
I shake my head at the devilish cast of his eyes. “Dude, look at me. There's no way even you can pull off shower sex in my state.
I guess Victor considers that a challenge because we're really running late by the time we get out of the shower.
I scramble to get ready, even though I have no idea what I'm going to wear to a restaurant as nice as this La Grenouille place sounds.
But lo and behold, when I go through the wardrobe back in the guest room, I find a champagne cut-out lace maternity dress just hanging out on the inside door hook of my closet like it was waiting for me to need it. Though I’m certain it wasn’t there before.
“Thanks, Yolanda,” I say out loud like she’s a deity that’s always watching over me. Mostly because I’m not 100% certain that’s not exactly what she is.
I throw the surprise dress on and slip my feet back into my fuzzy slipper boots since all my going-out shoes are in the rack downstairs.
So I’m all ready to go. However, when I go back to Victor's room, he's nowhere to be found.
But then a text comes through on my phone.
VICTOR: Downstairs, waiting for you by the door.
Of course, it only took him, like, two minutes to achieve all his tattoo model in a suit glory. But whatever. Now I’m just excited to drive to New York.
“I'm so curious about Phantom’s fiancée,” I call to Victor as I waddle down the stairs. “I mean, what kind of woman looks at Phantom and says, ‘yeah, sign me up for a lifetime with that guy. I love nonstop grouchiness. And maybe if I wait a couple of decades, one day I might actually see him smile’…”
I trail off. Not because my question isn’t funny. (For the official record, it totally is.)
But, no, I stopped because there’s a foyer full of people gathered at the bottom of the stairs, including my parents, some of my RhIDS program mates, and a glowering Phantom.
“Surprise!” Everybody but him yells out.
29
“So you really didn't know he was throwing you a surprise baby shower?” Lena asks a few hours later.
The party’s over, but since everyone save a skeleton guard staff is off for the weekend, I’m helping Lena take down all the decorations she, Keane, and Max covertly set up while I did…ah…other things with Victor upstairs.
At least, I’m trying to help. Whenever I pick up anything heavier than a scrap of crêpe paper, Lena snatches it from me. And by the time Lena asks me if I really didn’t know this would be a party, I’m somehow keeping Amber “company” on the couch with the extremely light flute of sparkling apple cider my best friend pressed into my hand.
“Hand to God, I didn't know,” I answer. Then I lowered my voice to add, “And I wouldn't have guessed in a thousand years that Victor would invite my dad. My mom and Byron, sure. But my dad?”