The smile that spreads across her face is worth every ounce of uncertainty I just signed up for. "I was hoping you'd say that."
I lift her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to her knuckles. “The first decision we've made together about this kid, and we ended up in the same place. How about that?”
I'm not naive enough to think they'll all go this smoothly, but I'll take the win.
"There's something else we need to talk about." I nod toward the living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sharp-edged furniture I never thought twice about until today. "What about this place?"
Her expression turns hesitant. Apparently, she's been thinking about it too.
"Sharp edges, glass everywhere," I point out. "Every corner in this apartment could crack a kid's skull open. The terrace railing has gaps a toddler could slip through. This place was designed for a man who only ever had to think about himself."
"Nick—"
"I'll sell it." The words come out easier than I expected. This penthouse has been proof of everything I built, everything I clawed my way toward. But sitting here next to Avery, with that ultrasound image on the counter between us, none of that matters the way it used to. "We'll find something else. A brownstone. A place outside the city with a big yard. Whatever you want, angel. I'll make it happen."
She's quiet for a long moment. I watch her gaze travel across the space, to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the view of the city skyline spread out below us, this massive kitchen where I've made her breakfast more times than I can count.
"Nick… no."
I frown. "No?"
"I don't want to leave." Her voice is steady. Certain. "This is our home. This is where we put ourselves back together aftereverything fell apart. Where I woke up next to you and knew—really knew—that I was done running from what we have."
"But the baby—"
"We'll make it work." She turns on her stool to face me fully, and her hand comes up to rest on my jaw. "We'll childproof every sharp corner. Put up gates, cover the outlets, do whatever we need to do. But I'm not giving up this place. Not when it's where our life together started."
The conviction in her eyes mirrors something I've felt since the first night I brought her here. The sense that this space, which had been nothing but expensive emptiness for years, finally felt alive. That it meant something. She's claimed it as hers. The same way she's claimed me.
"Okay." I turn my head to press a kiss to the center of her palm. "We stay."
"We stay." She smiles, and it hits me somewhere deep in my chest. "Besides, you love this kitchen."
"I love cooking for you in this kitchen," I correct her. "There's a difference."
She leans forward and kisses me.
We finish eating, and I clear the dishes while she moves to the couch. When I join her I pull her close, her back against my chest, my arms wrapped around her, my legs bracketing hers. She relaxes into me like she was made to fit in exactly this space. My hand finds her belly, resting there. Just wanting to be close to both of them.
"You do realize we have no idea what we're doing." Her voice is soft. Content.
I chuckle. "Not a fucking clue."
"Does that scare you? Still?"
I think about the conversation we had in the bath that day she first told me she was pregnant. The fear I admitted to her, that the volatility in my blood would find its way into my hands. ThatI'd look at my own child one day and they’d see my father staring back at them.
Avery talked me through it with a certainty I couldn't argue with, and the fear has been quieter since. Not gone. But manageable.
"Not like before." I press my mouth to her hair. "Now it's different, like standing at the edge of something huge. Something I can't see the bottom of. But knowing you're standing there with me makes it feel like we might actually survive the fall."
She turns in my arms, shifting until she's facing me, her thighs settling on either side of mine. The movement presses her against me in ways that make my blood heat, but I don't act on it. Not yet. I just look at her, this woman who saw through every wall I ever built and decided to stay anyway.
"We're going to figure this out," she says. "The same way we've figured out everything else."
I stroke her soft cheek. "Together."
"Yes, together." Her hand comes up to cup my face. "I love you, Nick. Whatever comes next, just remember that. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."
