My effort to comfort her fell flat and didn’t do much to reassure her. I can’t say I’m not worried too, as I know a defeat today would break my wife. When the judge leans forward, I hear Amelia’s breath catch so I run a hand over her arm with my free one, seeking to comfort her.
“The court finds…” The words hang in the air, each one a blow against my already frayed nerves. “…in favor of the adoption…”
A collection of gasps sweeps through the courtroom, drowning out the rest of the words. Then a cheer erupts, exploding through the room and nearly blowing the roof off. Amelia staggers, and I have to hold her so she doesn’t fall. I watch as the tears fall, but there’s that smile I haven’t seen in days, often drowned by anxiety. When it breaks across her face, it drives the dark clouds away.
“I’m not her stepmother anymore,” she says tearfully. “Legally, she’s my baby now.”
“She’s been yours from the second you lulled her to sleep with your music,” I say, kissing her brows. She wraps her arms tightly around me before pushing back to get to Wren, who immediately extends her little arms for my wife. I watch with pride as my two girls embrace, one caught up in the joy of the moment without even realizing how much the other has agonized over this day.
“Let’s take this party out of here,” Saint says, clapping my shoulder, and I nod, eager to finally leave this place. The last couple of months have been a long battle of fighting to establish legal custody. When Amelia told me she wanted to adopt Wren,neither of us were prepared for the complex process, but she was already emotionally invested and determined to see it through.
And today, it paid off.
The ride to the clubhouse is spent in chatter between my wife and daughter, Amelia talking and Wren blabbering away. They stick together at the party, and I don’t take it to heart when my wife forgets me for a moment, choosing to keep the baby in her arms the entire time. I catch up with her in a quiet corner of the terrace, rocking a sleeping Wren.
“I saved you some cake,” I tell her, lifting the paper plate and the slice I managed to snag before the guys could clean it out.
“Thank you,” she says, opening up her mouth when I fork some for her. “Wren is going to be so upset when she wakes up to find all the cake gone. You know how much she loves cake.”
“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing the bakery is open on weekends too.” I spoon more cake to feed her. “We’ll get her some desserts tomorrow.”
“Yeah, tomorrow,” she says, hugging the sleeping child tighter. I watch them together and feel my heart swell with affection, but there’s also a concern that I’ve always carried. A little guilt from how things played out between us. With everything sorted, at least the legal bit of it, maybe this is the time to bring up my concerns.
“Would you like a do-over?” I ask her.
Amelia opens her mouth and I feed her more cake. “Hmm?”
“I mean, a real proposal. A wedding,” I explain. “Everything between us happened in a rush, and you deserve tobe wooed and courted properly. It might be a bit late for the courting, but we could redo some things.”
She chews slowly, considering. “You’re right, things did happen fast between us, but I wouldn’t change a moment of any of it,” she says, her eyes filled with affection when they meet mine. “That awkward proposal in the park, and the court wedding and then our wedding night…I wouldn’t want to change any of it. I don’t need to rewrite or replace any of those memories with new ones.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m legally yours, and you are legally mine.” Her eyes drop to our sleeping child. “And now, she is legally ours. It’s perfect. We’re perfect.”
My concern falls away at her words and I realize that she’s right. We are perfect.
When her arms get sore from carrying Wren for so long, I take her and we head to the guest apartment in the clubhouse. Together, we lay Wren in a borrowed crib, then stand together to watch her. “She’s so big now,” I muse. “Kids grow up so fast.”
“I know,” she mutters. “Do you think she’s big enough for a sibling?”
My head whips around and I stare at my wife in surprise. “What?”
“I…I’ve been thinking,” she starts. “Watching our baby grow out of her little clothes and get so big has given me baby fever.”
“You want another baby?”
She nods. “As long as it’s okay with you.”
“Then it sounds like we have a lot of work to do,” I say, a wicked gleam settling in my eyes. I grab the baby monitor and wrap my arm around her middle, and she gasps when I haul her onto my shoulder. I carry her caveman style out of Wren’s room and to the master bedroom. “How about we get started on that?”
“Hawk!” She giggles when I toss her onto the bed. “I didn’t mean we need to make the baby right now.”
“Why not?” I ask, placing the baby monitor on the nightstand and turning to her. Christ, it’s been five months of marriage, a year and a half since I met her, and I still want her just as desperately, if not more.
She looks so sexy in that dress, her tits straining over the neckline, and suddenly, I can’t help but picture her pregnant. Those tits swollen and sensitive. Desperate for my touch, for me to tease and suck them into relief.
“Hawk?”
