I come to sit down beside her, my gaze falling to her stomach. She’s tugged up her shirt and exposed her belly as if expecting a beer gut to flop out.
In truth, you can’t even tell she is pregnant yet.But in typical Monroe fashion, she pinches at the flesh ’til she’s created a layer of fat.
“See this? It’s bloat—my jeans are already tighter!”
“Maybe it has to do with the short ribs you had on the flight here,” I tease, poking at the soft flesh. “Or maybe it’s all in your head, Tokki-ya. You’re a long way before the huge, round belly. But when itdoescome, I look forward to it.”
“I’m thinking I’ll just ditch any pants from here on out. Live in dresses and skirts for the next nine months. They’re a lot less judgmental and don’t leave teeth marks on the skin.”
I answer her by leaning over and capturing her plush, full lips in a kiss.
It’s my way of reassuring her. Letting her know that whatever she chooses to wear, it doesn’t matter.
The truth is, this pregnancy has left us both stunned.
Monroe processes it outwardly—every mood swing attributed to hormones, every craving analyzed and discussed, and even the slightest change in her body examined and reported in detail.
I process it differently. More silently and internally. Turning the reality over in my mind like a problem I’m trying to solve.
I know how to lead men into violence and emerge victorious. I know how to command respect and instill fear. For many years now, I’ve navigated the brutal politics of the Baekho Pa.
But being a father?
The concept still feels foreign.Abstract.
It took me a while to feel confident I could be a worthy husband to Monroe—and she is worthy of the world and more—but now there’s a child to consider.
A life that will depend on me in ways I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle.
Yet…
As soon as I glance at Monroe slouched on our couch, her stomach exposed, her expression blended between exhaustion and relief to be home, there’s no denying the love.
The deep feelings I have for her, and now for the tiny life that grows inside her. It’s a warmth that spreads through me until it consumes.
Until I have the overwhelming urge and sense of duty to give her everything.
If she believes we can do this—thatIcan do this—then perhaps I can. I’m equipped to be a father after all.
“You’re staring,” she murmurs suddenly.
“I’m… observing.”
Her lips curve into a slight smile. “You mean like how you observed me those couple weeks you were stalking me?”
“I was a chaperone. Making sure you got home safely and no one bothered you.”
She snorts. “Yeah, you mean like the hitman you hired?”
“Andkilled for you.”
“What was his crime again? Actually trying to complete the job?” she asks. “Silly him. He thought you really wanted to off the person you hired him to off.”
“It wasn’t my most sensible hour,” I admit, almost grinning myself. “I was very confused back then. Besides, I did instruct him to be gentle. To make it painless.”
“Gentlykill someone—do you hear yourself right now?”
I shut her up with yet another kiss to the lips. Harder and more aggressive this time, allowing a hand to slide down the shapely curve of her body.
