“Hi, Mama.” His face morphing from stoic to joy when he sees me lying on the couch.
“Hi, cuddles?”
“Please, just let me get changed.” Tatum places a quick kiss on my lips before heading to change.
Laying in his arms with his hand resting on my stomach feels as natural as breathing.
“What’s your favorite movie?” He asks, breaking the peaceful silence between us. His thumb moves slowly along my bump awaiting my answer.
“Hmmm, it depends on my mood. If I want a classic, 10 Things I Hate About You is a go-to. If I want something emotional, I’d probably go for A Walk to Remember. Something silly, probably Shrek-the movie of my childhood.” Tatum chuckles at that last one, his hot breath fanning my neck and sending tingles between my legs. “What about you?”
“Probably World War Z. I love a good zombie movie. Favorite color?”
“Aquamarine, you couldn’t tell?”
“Of course I could, I just wanted confirmation. I know your favorite food is lasagna and your favorite flower is a lily. My favorite color is green and my food is my mom's pot roast.”
“Her roast is to die for.” I laugh and turn to face him, letting my head rest along his bicep. “What do your tattoos mean?”
“Well, the rose is for mom. The chrysanthemum is dad's birth flower and daffodils are the twins.”
“I thought so, I just wanted confirmation.” I throw his words back at him before my stomach causes me to jolt. Tatum’s brows dip in concern. “I’m… I’m okay. I think the baby moved?” Whatever it was, it felt like popcorn popping.
“Are you serious?” Just as he asks, it happens again.
“Yeah, give me your hand.” His hand that was wrapped around my back moves towards my front. I guide him to where I felt the movement, pressing his hand in with my own. We stay there, eyes locked on one another, waiting. After a minute or two, it happens again and Tatum's eyes light up. Excitement now written across his features where concern previously was.
“That was so weird but also so fucking neat.” He smiles at me.
“It was, wasn’t it? I’m glad you got to experience it with me.” I lean up, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. At this moment, I’m genuinely thrilled that Tatum is here with me. Not just the baby moving but this whole pregnancy and what’s to come for us. He’s been nothing but attentive, kind, and caring with me. Making sure I’m fed, have a place to stay, and a way for me to do my dream job.
“Me too, I know that this isn’t exactly what we expected our lives to look like right now. But I am happy that these little milestones are ones that I’m getting to have with you.” He says, continuing to mindlessly rub circles on my stomach where the blob was moving around. The baby's movements seemed to slow with Tatum's touch, similar to how my heart calms in his presence.
“I can agree with that, I didn’t think I would be pregnant at this point in my life. Nor did I think I would have left my job, ever really.”
“I didn’t think I would’ve gotten somebody pregnant, but I have to tell you that I’m pleased it was you.”
“Honestly, I could say the same.”
This time, Tate is the one leaning down to kiss me. ”Want to watch some Gilmore Girls before dinner?”
“Yes please.” The rest of the night goes by in a flash, stealing kisses, talking theories about our show, and cuddling on the couch.
Chapter18
Pottery and Pasta
Tatum || 21 weeks pregnant, October
Darcy emerges from her room at six PM on the dot, her blonde hair is curled and the top half is pulled out of her face—her makeup a little heavier than normal, covering up that freckle I adore. Her bump is accentuated by a cream-colored skin-tight dress with a forest green cardigan covering her arms and shoulders. I’m on my feet and closing the space between us without a second thought. My hands find her hips, gently pulling her body to mine. “You are so beautiful.”
I watch as her fair skin pinkens from the chest up before she practically whispers, “Thank you.”
“You ready?” I ask her planting a kiss on the top of her head.
“Yessir. What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise, I think you’re going to love it though,” I tell her, after taking her clutch and interlacing her fingers with mine, guiding her into the elevator and getting her tucked into the car. She hums along to the radio as we make the drive toPotters, Painters, and Pasta. It’s a craft venue that recently opened and when you’re done with your art, they have a small Italian restaurant attached. I hope that Darcy enjoys my choice of location, I didn’t want to tell her because I felt like if this place was on her radar, she would have been here fifteen times by now with the girls. Selfishly, I wanted her to experience this with me for the first time.
