I wanted to be annoyed. Part of me felt the need to tell him he didn’t have to do all of this. I was not the kind of woman who required roses or surprises, or grand Valentine’s Day productions. However, I could not stop smiling like a damn teenager.
I sat up, which was becoming more of a production every day at twenty-five weeks. My physical comfort was plummeting in direct proportion to my expanding waistline, while my professional life soared.
The Black Ember contract had transformed TMW practically overnight. I’d hired three new people last week, and my inbox was overflowing with potential client inquiries. Success, as it turned out, bred more success.
The bed beside me was still warm where Aris had slept. His navy dress shirt hung over the chair by the window, and I could hear the distant sound of his voice from downstairs.
He’s been sleeping in my bed every night for the past two weeks, ever since we returned from Kentucky. He said he wanted to make sure I was getting enough sleep, but we both knew we’d get more rest if we slept apart.
Not that I’m complaining. Waking up next to him feels like the most natural thing in the world.
It had never felt this easy to let someone in. During Tia’s cancer, when the world felt like it was ending, I’d started seeing a therapist.
Dr. Yates was the first person who helped me understand that my father’s inability to stay wasn’t a verdict on my worth. That Kevin’s betrayal wasn’t proof I was unlovable. That the cycle I’d grown up in wasn’t my destiny to repeat.
I believed her, intellectually. But believing something in your head and feeling it in your body are two different continents.
Aris was the bridge.
By the time I made it downstairs, the smell of coffee and whatever the chef Aris had insisted on hiring had prepared lifted my spirits considerably. I’d protested—weakly, admittedly—when he’d also arranged for my cleaning service to come six days per week instead of one, but he’d simply kissed my forehead and said something in Greek.
My phone buzzed, and Tia’s name popped up, and my heart did a little skip.
Your gift should arrive around noon. Happy Love Day, Mom. ??
I stared at the message, feeling tears prick my eyes. She remembered our tradition.
Every Valentine’s Day since she was little, we’d exchange small gifts. Heart-shaped pancakes and handmade cards when she was young, then more elaborate surprises as she got older. The reminder that she still carries those memories makes my heart swell with love.
Check YOUR email. ?? Happy Love Day, baby. Love you! ??
Aris greeted me with a deep kiss as I walked into the kitchen. “You are all dressed up. You look lovely.”
“Thank you. I’m going to church with Mama Nettie.”
“I will join you.”
I wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his cologne. “I would love nothing more than to have you come, but if Nettie sees you, she’ll have questions, and we need to talk to the kids first.”
“We need to talk to them sooner rather than later, yes.” He placed both hands on either side of my stomach. “We are past the halfway mark.”
“That’s what scares me.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Tia still hasn’t warmed to the pregnancy. She acts like it doesn’t exist.” Saying it out loud made the ache in my chest sharper.
Tia had always been my person, my safe harbor when everything else felt uncertain. The distance between us felt like losing a piece of myself.
The thought of telling Tia that her husband’s father was the daddy of these babies made me sick to my stomach. Lord, how would she even take that? Her own father-in-law and her mama?
She might think it’s all kinds of wrong, like I’m trying to weasel my way into her adult life after she married his son. Or worse—that I did this on purpose to stay connected to her new family. She already thought I was too much in her business. This would just confirm everything.
“She will be fine,” Aris reassured me. “We will all be fine. I will ensure it.”
I nodded, but his confidence wasn’t reassuring. The situation was too messy for simple promises.
I pressed my face against his chest, breathing him in, trying to find comfort in his certainty when mine felt shaky.
An hour later, I was walking through the doors of Mount Olive Baptist Church. The sanctuary was decorated for Valentine’s Day with pink and red streamers draping from the ceiling and heart-shaped cutouts on the walls.
The choir was humming something soft and gospel-sweet when I slipped in through the side door. The diamond bracelet Aris had surprised me with before I left caught the light as I adjusted my purse strap.
