“Enough said.” I laugh. “Violette, did you rob a bookstore on the way here?”
“No,” she replies, lifting the bag and setting it on the windowsill. “I came prepared.”
She begins unpacking.Modern Bride,Vogue Weddings, a stack of baby name books, a spiral-bound journal that says “Birth Plan” in rose gold foil, and a weekly pregnancy guide with a smiling fetus on the cover.
“Oh my God,” I breathe.
“I’m so excited. We have so much to prepare for.”
Enzo rubs his temples. “You’re terrifying.”
“Speaking of terrifying,” Violette continues smoothly, turning toward Enzo and Lars, “you both have somewhere to be. The men need to meet. I brought you a change of clothes.”
Lars groans. “Wejustgot here.”
“You’ve had your coffee. Now go.”
Enzo frowns, still beside me, not moving. “I’m not leaving her alone.”
“You’re not,” Violette says, sliding into the armchair beside the bed. “She has me. And twenty pounds of printed propaganda.”
He looks at me, his jaw tight.
I grab his shirt and tug gently until he leans down. I kiss him slowly, then whisper near his ear, “I’ll be here when you get back,Daddy. Go play nice with the mob.”
His words are possessive and affectionate. “I’m locking you in a tower when we get home.” He turns to Violette. “Don’t get too comfortable, I’m hoping to have her home by the end of the day.”
Violette salutes him. Then he kisses me again—forehead, cheek, lips, like a ritual he refuses to skip—then heads to the bathroom to change.
Lars smiles. “I haven’t had the chance to properly congratulate you yet, Zara. I can’t wait to see how soft that man goes when that child gets here.”
I laugh. “Thank you, Lars.” I lower my voice, glancing at the bathroom door. “He’s already a mess about it.”
His grin grows larger. “Knew it. We love you, Zara. I’m glad you’ve come in and torn that man’s world to pieces.”
I look between Violette and Lars, my eyes stinging. “I love you both too. He’s lucky to have you two in his life. And I’m lucky you’re in mine now too.”
The bathroom door opens and Enzo sees my eyes. His brow pinches when his eyes dart to Lars. “What have you done to upset her?”
I wave him off. “Oh, calm down, Mr. Marchetti. We’re just being sappy.”
He eyes us all suspiciously. “If you say so, Angel. One more kiss, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I tilt up and place my lips to his.
Lars waves his coffee as Enzo joins him at the door. “Try to keep Vi from terrorizing the staff while we’re gone.”
“No promises.”
Once the door clicks shut behind them, the silence stretches. Not awkward. Comfortable. Violette picks up a couple of magazines, hands one to me and casually begins flipping through it like this is just a Sunday morning at home.
“Are we really going to read about canapés and mood boards right now?” I ask.
“No,” she replies. “We’re going to pretend we are so the nurses stop hovering. I also brought snacks.” She pulls a tiny velvet pouch from her purse and reveals a handful of dark chocolates wrapped in gold foil.
“I take back everything I said. You’re my favorite in-law.”
“Obviously.”
For a few minutes, we exist in something calm. She flips through pages, offering commentary. I nibble chocolate and fake interest in things like garden roses and signature cocktails, grateful for the distraction. Then, curiosity gets the better of me.
