Which is why I grab my phone and open the app I use to organize everything from recipes, to outfits, to…
Baby items.
The board I have for Peanut is new, but I’ve already got quite a few things added. While I eat, I manage to add a few more. I’m sticking with the basics for now. Items I know I’ll need—a diaper bag, car seat, stroller, a crib. I’ve also added some maternity outfit ideas. I’m doing okay with my leggings and lounge pants so far, so I haven’t ordered anything yet, but I know it’s coming. My stomach isn’t any bigger—likely due to all the puking—but it does feel firmer.
So do my boobs, and I’m gonna take the wins when I can get them.
I’m just finishing off my breakfast when the doorbell rings, pulling my attention from the screen.
What in the heck has Titus ordered now?
I stand, intending to see who’s here since he’s in his office working, but Titus beats me to the punch, striding out to open the door.
The face on the other side is familiar.
“Jason. Thanks for coming over.” Titus shakes the architect’shand as he welcomes him inside. “I appreciate you driving out here.”
“It’s not a problem.” Jason turns to me, offering a warm smile. “Good to see you again, Mariah.”
“You too.” I’m a little surprised to see Jason so soon. With so much happening—my doctor’s appointment, the breaches at Alaskan Security and Titus’s company, the weekly family dinners—I figured it would be a while before we revisited the house renovation thing.
Titus closes the door and comes to where I’m standing, wrapping an arm around my waist before directing me toward his office. Once I’m in and situated in the chair behind his desk, Titus turns to Jason. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Sneaky man. Made sure I was sitting before he offered because he knows I’d go straight to the kitchen to grab whatever Jason wants.
Jason shakes his head, holding one hand up. “I’m fine, thank you.” He digs through his soft-sided briefcase, pulling out a pile of papers. “I brought over everything you wanted so we can get started.”
That has my brows lifting. Deep down, I didn’t really think Titus would rip his house apart for me. I sure as heck didn’t think he’d pay an architect to draw up plans for him to rip up his house.
But here they are, spread across the desk in front of me.
Titus moves in close beside me, leaning down to scan the clean lines and perfect letters. “You busted your ass on this.”
Jason sits a little straighter, looking pleased at Titus’s praise. “You said we’re working on a tight timeline.” He starts pointing to different areas of the plans. “That’s why I did my best to keep as much of the existing structure intact as possible. The fewer big changes we have to make, the faster the process can go.” His eyes flick to Titus. “If you want to make extensive changes to the footprint, we can, but it will draw the construction out pretty extensively and leave you with nowhere to stay during construction.”
“I’d prefer not to do that if we can get away with it.” Titusturns to me, his eyes fused to my face. “My goal is to have everything completed before summer.”
“I think that’s possible if we start now.” Jason continues on, babbling about construction crews and inspections and material sourcing.
I don’t hear any of it.
Because while I have a bare-bones Pinterest board, Titus has an architect, a builder, and a timeline. He’s not just making plans.
He’s following through.
And I genuinely don’t know how to handle it. How to wrap my head around the way he’s changing his whole life for me.
For Peanut.
I stand, shoving the chair back as I mumble something about being right back before rushing from the office. I can’t decide if I’m thrilled or terrified. I want this. I want every freaking thing Titus is willing to offer me. And I know—at least to some extent—I’m not just seeing what I want to see. I didn’t imagine a whole ass rendering of the house Titus envisions for his future.
My future. Peanut’s future.
Ourfuture.
But accepting that all of that is real means I have it all to lose. When shit I’ve imagined—plans I’ve concocted—go ass up, it’s nothing but my own pride that suffers.
If this falls through, I don’t know if I'll recover.
