Chapter 57
Sadie
Iflung the sheets off me, and wrapped my leg around the long pregnancy pillow that cocooned me next to Jeremiah, who was sleeping soundly beside me. I sighed and unwrapped myself from it, turning over to face him. I listened to his slow and steady breathing, and almost would have resented him for sleeping so peacefully, if he hadn’t looked so handsome. I reached my hand over and gently held it to his face, feeling the slight stubble tickle my palm. I smiled at him, wondering what he was dreaming about to have that small smile across his lips.
This was my own dream right here. The past three months had been calm and peaceful as we prepared for the baby. Since the feud with Anderson ended, we were able to really soak in my pregnancy and this new chapter we were starting together. I hadn’t realized how distracted I had been to the mess that awful man brought to our lives, until he was gone. It was as if he never existed. He retired early and moved to the Bahamas, according to the press. I felt at ease knowing I would never have to seethose awful black eyes again, that could go from conniving to empty with a snap of your fingers.
Jeremiah seemed less stressed now without his past trying to catch up to him. He was able to finally put it to rest. There was a certain ease about him now. He had been home more, letting the office handle things, rather than trying to have his hand in everything. I knew it said a lot for him to give up that little bit of control. I enjoyed having him home with me, while I nested.
I hadn’t found a job yet. I wasn’t the top candidate, being that I was due to have a baby any day now. I couldn’t blame them. I actually didn’t mind having these months off. Preparing for the baby was a job in itself. It was nice to soak it all in. I would go back to work sometime after the baby was born. Jeremiah said to come back to the firm where I had worked for years and had grown close to my old coworkers these past few months. The scandal had somehow brought us all closer.
Among organizing the entire penthouse because of my sudden urge to declutter an already minimal space, we had set up the baby’s bassinet in Jeremiah’s room. We had also moved my things to his closet and nightstand. I had been sleeping in his room for months now. It was silly to continue living in the guestroom. Though it was beautiful and meant a lot because he had done it for me, it didn’t havehim.
As I looked at him now, my hand still laid against his face, I smiled to myself and nuzzled closer. His eyes slowly fluttered open and studied my face.
“What are you looking at?” he whispered groggily.
I laughed softly. “Just admiring you.”
“Creep.” He smirked.
I gave him a playful shove as I tried to readjust myself to a comfortable position. I grunted as I rolled to my back and then back to my side. I sighed frustratedly, feeling like a beached whale trapped in the quicksand that was this cloud of the bed. As beautiful as this pregnancy had been, I was also huge and not used to the size I had grown to. My feet were swollen. My hips hurt. I felt like I had six extra chins. Jeremiah always reassured me I didn’t when I found myself emotional and self-conscious.
Now, he watched me struggle with that familiar amusement in his eyes. The same look he had every morning when I tried to get out of bed, squirming helplessly. I shot him a look as I rolled back to my back.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Only a little.” He chuckled before sitting up in bed, the sheets falling to reveal his chiseled chest. I swore, he got sexier as I got fatter. It wasn’t fair, even though my eyes fell directly to his muscles.
“Let me help you,” he said, gently slipping his hand underneath my back while grabbing my hand with his other. He eased me up to a seated position and helped me scooch back so I could rest against the headboard.
“Thank you,” I said, letting out a labored breath.
I rested my hands on my round belly, as if it were a tabletop.
“We should probably do some stretches this morning,” he suggested.
I groaned. I could barely sit up and this man wanted me to do stretches.
“I know, I know.” He put his hands up in defense when he saw the look I gave him. “But it’s important to keep your ligaments loose. It’s going to help with the birth.”
I hated that he was right. But I also loved that he even knew that, and helped me with my stretches every morning and every night. He really was the best partner. I was so glad I never gave up on him, or that he gave up on me.
We spent the next thirty minutes doing stretches on the foam mat we kept rolled up by the closet. I grunted and sweated through the whole session, but had to admit I felt better afterward. Baby even approved, because there were a medley of kicks going on inside my belly. Jeremiah and I sat there on the mat with our hands pressed against my bare skin, in awe of the fast-paced dance taking place inside me. Every time he felt a kick, his eyes teared up. My heart felt like it was breaking and fusing back together every time.
This man had been through so much. Because of his lack of trust, he never thought he would ever be capable of love or a life that was meaningful. Yet, here he was.
“We should go out to dinner after you get home from work,” I suggested.
“I know the perfect place,” he said with a knowing smile.
“Can’t wait.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, his warm hands still gently cradling my stomach that protruded between us.
While Jeremiah was at work, I finished the final touches on the nursery. I sat down in the center of the plush, cream rug that filled most of the room and looked around. It was perfect. With its light sage-green walls and flowing linen curtains that allowed the sunlight to drift in softly. The light wood crib was pushed against the back wall and above it hung a mobile of fluffy white clouds. The matching dresser sat against another wall, decorated with a basket of stuffed animals and a framed photo of Jeremiah and me. Erica had taken it of us at the park one day. My eyes were closed, mid-laugh, and he was looking at me with so much love in his eyes. It was my favorite photo ever.
This neutral room was full of love we had for our baby, who Jeremiah was convinced was a girl. We hadn’t had it confirmed with the doctor, just to have that element of surprise. It seemed fitting, given the start of our relationship and how it was full of surprises. Still, Jeremiah told me he just had a gut feeling. The tiny pink dress he had bought on a whim months ago hung inthe nursery closet. Its matching pair of pink booties on the shelf below it. It made me smile every time I walked in there.
Around 4 p.m., I took a long shower and began getting ready. It had been a while since I had gotten dolled up, but since this might be our last date night for a while, I went all out. I wrapped my freshly blow dried red hair in hot rollers and applied a touch more makeup than usual. I wandered into the closet and found a black maternity dress Gabriella had bought me. I shimmied it on, only struggling slightly, and studied myself in the mirror. It was a beautiful dress, simple, yet hugged my curvy figure and large bump. I smiled to myself before going to the bathroom to take out my rollers.
