My wife. My home.
The savory aroma of cooking meat wafts through the air asI open the door. I wasn’t hungry before, but the rich and fragrant smells make me aware it’s almost dinner time.
Monroe is in the kitchen, moving between the stove and the counter with her usual frenetic energy that’s both amusing and impressive. She’s the most chaotic cook I’ve ever witnessed, yet somehow she always manages to put together delicious dishes.
If you were to ask her, she’d claim there’s a method to her madness.
Right now, she’s wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, tongue poked out as she reads from her tablet that’s propped up on the counter. She nods as if reassuring herself she has the measurements correct, then darts to the other side of the kitchen to toss some onion and garlic powder into the pot on the stove.
My rabbit is always beautiful, but candid moments like this are some of my favorites—she’s got her natural curls tied up by a scarf so that it makes the shape of a pineapple, her brown skin luminous amid the steam from the stove. Her features are as round and youthful as ever, giving her an innocent look only I know is not entirely true.
My rabbit isn’t as innocent as she looks.
Hearing my keys and footsteps, she looks up, and her eyes light up.
“Oh, you’re home!” she squeaks. “Great timing—dinner’s almost ready! I found this recipe on Pinterest, and I think it’s going to be so good!”
I cross to her and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her curls mixed with the warm spices of whatever she’s cooking. “It smells incredible. What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.” She swats at my hand when I try to peek into the pot on the stove. “Go sit down. I’ll bring everything out.”
“Let me help?—”
“Jin. Go sit,” she says bossily. Her lips quirk from her temptation to laugh. “Let me handle it all for once, okay?”
Her tone rouses my suspicious nature. I pause slightly, trying to figure out what my wife has planned. But then I do as she asks and go to settle into a chair at the dining table.
We’ve only recently returned from our honeymoon. After we eloped in Philadelphia, we bid goodbye to Daisha and then went off for our own celebration. We bought spontaneous tickets to Hawaii—neither of us having ever been—and enjoyed a week together exploring islands like Kauai and Oahu.
We didn’t limit ourselves to just that getaway.
We decided to make the most of our little interlude and traveled to Japan next on our way back to Korea.
It was a lot of traveling within a two week period, but we made some incredible memories as newlyweds that will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
We’ve both been tired settling back into our lives in Busan. Monroe more so, sleeping more than usual and experiencing aches.
I’m only seated for a minute before Monroe emerges from the kitchen. She smiles as she catches my eye and approaches the table. Instead of the plates I’m expecting, she’s holding something small in her hands. She places it on the table in front of me without a word, then steps back to give me a moment to take a look.
My gaze drops to the photograph that’s been placed in front of me.
It’s a sonogram. A grainy black and white image I know well after her pregnancy months ago and the one we collected then.
I’m rarely confused, but my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing. My brows draw close as I glance up at her.
“Monroe, is this old?”
Suddenly, her eyes are shining with tears. She shakes her head to the side. “Look at the date in the corner, Jin.”
“It’s… today.”
So perplexed as her news dawns on me, I look from her to the sonogram photo several times. I’ve never felt slower, more dumbfounded by a revelation.
…yet as confusion fades and shock takes over, so do feelings of wonder.
“Is this… Monroe… you’re…?”
“The jetlag’s been rough,” she answers with a shrug and quick wipe at her eyes. “But I’ve been pregnant before, and I’ve learned my body. Something’s been off, so this morning I called Dr. Gong and she fit me in on short notice. I think she was as eager as I was to find out what it was. I’m pregnant, Jin. Eight weeks.”
