CIARA
Ismy baby going to grow up without a father?
The thought plays on repeat in my head as I lie in bed, wondering if Ronan is ever going to walk through the front door again. It’s almost two in the morning, and there’s still no word from him.
I should have asked him for details about what he was doing tonight because not knowing is so much worse.
I’ve never seen him look so on edge. Maybe I should have begged him to bring me along. After all, the whole kidnapping fiasco with Mila should have proven to him that we should stick together.
But then again, that was before I knew I was pregnant, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to our baby because I couldn’t stand to be the doting wife who waits around at home while her husband goes off to war.
Except sitting still and doing nothing still sucks as much now as it did that day.
After getting up and throwing on some sweats, I head downstairs to make myself a cup of tea before settling in the TV room, which is just off the kitchen and has all the candy and chocolate I could ever want.
“Do you think we could manage some peanut butter cups?” I place a hand on my belly.
I imagine the smell of peanut butter, and instantly I feel the now-familiar churning sensation.
“Fine.” I sigh as I rub my belly. “Maybe I should be thanking you for finally curbing my sweet tooth.”
I stretch out on the couch, one hand cradling yet another mug of ginger tea as I scroll through the movie options.
Stephen was right. It really does help to settle the stomach.
I decide on an old 90s romcom. It’s one I’ve seen a dozen times before, which is why I chose it.
Right now, my life feels unpredictable and chaotic, which is the opposite of what this movie is.
I silently mouth along to some of the dialogue, feeling my spirits lift at the nostalgic feeling that washes over me when the familiar songs play in the background.
What would make this moment even better would be if Mila were here and we were gouging on cookie dough and pizza. But it’s the middle of the night, and she’ll likely be asleep, so I can’t even call her to see if she wants to join me.
So, once again, I’m stuck trying to find ways to entertain myself.
Ever since the situation with Mila’s brother, Ronan hasn’t allowed me to help with anything else regarding the business, and while I could just break into his computer and start answering emails, I need to stay on his good side for whenever I decide to tell him about the baby. Which, at this point, will be in the delivery room when it’s coming out of me.
The morning sickness has eased a little, enough for me to have an appetite again. But when it does hit, it hitshard, so I’m trying to take it easy, which means it’s just going to be me and the couch for the next few weeks.
I take a sip of my tea, sighing at the slightly spicy taste, and let out a laugh at the TV as the main character faceplants into a wedding cake. It's stupid and slapstick, but I love it, and from the sound of deep rumbles of laughter just outside the door, someone else is enjoying it too.
I crane my neck to see down the hallway, and standing there, half-concealed behind the kitchen archway, is Stephen, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
I blink at him. “Did you just laugh?”
He straightens quickly and clears his throat, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Did he just call mema’am?
“Please don’t ever call me that again. It makes me feel ancient. Ciara is fine.”
Stephen dips his chin before tucking his hands behind his back and forcing his attention straight ahead.
“Screw this. Get in here.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Come and sit.” I pat the couch.
