“With a doctor’s appointment I didn’t know about and a crib I didn’t choose?” Her voice cracks slightly. “Santo, these are things we should do together!”
“I know,” I say, stepping closer. “And we will do everything together. I just...” I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling foolish. “I got excited. I wanted to make sure you and the baby were healthy right away.”
Her expression softens slightly, but the hurt is still there. “And the crib?”
I glance at the enormous package. “It’s the safest one made. Titanium frame, organic mattress, built-in monitor system. I researched all night.”
“Of course you did,” she says, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You probably know more about cribs now than the people who make them.”
I take another step closer, relieved when she doesn’t back away. “Dea. I should have waited. Should have included you.”
She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “I want to be mad at you.”
“But you’re not?” I ask hopefully.
“Oh, I am,” she clarifies, poking my chest. “But I also know you did this because you love us. You’re just... overzealous.”
“Protective,” I correct gently.
She raises an eyebrow.
“Control freak,” she counters, but the edges of the words are soft. Teasing. Forgiving.
I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. “Let the doctor check you. Please. For my peace of mind.”
She leans into my touch, eyes closing briefly. “Fine. But no more purchases without me.”
“Deal.”
***
Vasilisa’s curled on the couch in our sitting room, one of her hand-painted ornaments cradled in her lap, her expression stormy despite the glittery snowflakes still clinging to her fingers. I step into the room and she looks up, eyes immediately softening when they land on me.
“Blood results confirm it, we’re having a baby,” I say breathless and excited.
Her expression doesn’t change.
I sit beside her and pull her into my arms. “What’s wrong? You’re perfect. Both of you are.”
She exhales against my chest, tension leaving her in pieces.
“Good,” she murmurs, but there’s a hitch in her voice. “Because I think I’m about to have a breakdown over garland.”
I blink. “Garland?”
She pulls back and waves her hand toward the open tablet resting beside her. “The packages from Mistle & Maple and Twinkling Ivy Co. still haven’t arrived. They were supposed to be here two days ago. A snowstorm delay or some‘supply chain disruption’nonsense. I don’t even know. And I can’t finish decorating or put up the foyer tree. It’s freaking Christmas Eve Eve!”
I reach for her hands, glitter and all, and press them to my lips. “You don’t need garland to make this perfect.”
“I do,” she says softly. “I wanted everything to be just right. Our first Christmasreallytogether, without war or recovery or stress. Just…us. And now the foyer tree is naked and the bannisters look like they’ve been abandoned mid-project by depressed, union-striking elves.”
I laugh and press a kiss to her temple. “You’re adorable.”
“And you love it,” she mumbles.
“I do,” I murmur against her skin. “Now let me take care of it.”
Her brows lift. “You’re going to… handcraft garland from raw pine boughs?”
