She leads me into the master suite, and it’s awash with grays and creams, the light streams in, and it’s all very soft, very sophisticated. “The shower is extra tall for you,” she tells me, as she leads me in. And it is. It’s the perfect size for me, and there’s a soaking tub for Mila.
“We’re going to be happy here,” I tell her. She nods.
“Yes, we will.”
We make our way through the rest of the house, through Zuzu’s room and what will be the nursery.
“I can’t believe you got this taken care of in just a couple of weeks,” I finally tell her as we sit in our new living room. It is decorated in a warm coastal style, laid back and casual.
My father pipes in. “Your wife is a force to be reckoned with.”
I glance at her. “That, I know.”
She laughs, and Zuzu sits on my lap, her blond hair against my chest. I pull at her curls gently, and I don’t forget the one that I have in my pocket. I’ve been carrying it with me to remember the things that matter the most.
“This room is missing one thing,” I tell my wife. Her head snaps up.
“I forgot something?”
I whisper into Zuzu’s ear, and she grins, then runs off. She returns a few minutes later, the picture that she had drawn of our family in her hand.
“I’d like to get this framed and put in here,” I say, and Mila’s smile lights up the room.
“I think that’s perfect.”
We sit and chat until well past Zuzu’s bedtime, and then my father excuses himself to leave.
“Don’t be a stranger,” I tell him as he hugs me.
“I won’t,” he promises.
Mila and I take Zuzu to bed, and tuck her in. We read her a story, and then two, and finally, we tiptoe out into our own bedroom down the hall.
After Mila takes a bath, and I take a shower, we climb into our new bed.
“I thought this moment would never come,” I tell Mila, and she collapses into me, her heat and her softness meshed against my hardness.
“Me either,” she admits. “I was ready for bedtime.”
I start to kiss her, and she kisses me back with soft lips before she pulls away.
“I need you to promise that you’re never going to try and face life without me again,” she says. “We’re a team. For better or for worse, always.”
“Always,” I agree. “I promise.”
And then…
Then…
I attack her. I crush her lips to mine, and I inhale her the way I’ve been wanting to for weeks. She smells so familiar, so mine, and I soak her up, like sunshine on a cold day.
She reacts, and her legs lift up and around my hips and my breathing is already ragged.
She slides her hand along my chest and kisses me hard. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell her because she’s pregnant, and I’m frantic already.
“You won’t,” she promises. “Make love to me, Pax. I’ve been waiting for weeks.”
So I do.