Things that I used to stress over no longer hold any sway. Just the thought of her at home waiting for me can make the toughest business day seem like child’s play, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Making money had taken a backseat to making love to my girl.
Had anyone told me just a year ago that things would turn out this way, I would’ve laughed them to scorn because back then, I couldn’t see any way around the behemoth-sized screw-up I’d made in the past. But now, here we are, and things haveturned out even better than I could ever have imagined and barely dared hope for.
Maybe it’s because I almost lost her and had lost her there for a while that things are the way they are- who knows. What I do know is that we’re in sync in a way most people can only dream of. That fear of losing something this vital again keeps us both in check, so we’ve come up with our own system. One that works for us.
We don’t hide things from each other, no matter the consequences. It’s a promise we’d made to each other that has made things much easier between us. We still have our moments when we want to wring each other’s necks, but these days our arguments are more like playful banter, and our lovemaking after each fight only seems to get more intense each time.
I don’t know who I have to thank for this, whether it’s my doing or hers; I just know I don’t ever want things to change. Now, as if life hadn’t already given me more than I deserve, she’s pregnant. That realization was a whole other ordeal in itself because she was nowhere near ready, and she let me know at the top of her lungs. Apparently, I did it by myself.
It was just a few days after our honeymoon when we found out, and in a most peculiar way at that. We’d barely made it back to my wing of the estate, which had been redone to suit our new status as a married couple instead of the bachelor pad it was before.
Walls had been knocked down, and passageways closed off to make the place more private. All of this was done while we were gone under my little brother’s supervision, and I have to admit, he’d done a good job. He’d stuck to the plans I’d had drawn up for most of it, but he wouldn’t be Roman if he didn’t add his own personal touch to my shit.
The fact that he’d accepted his sister-in-law without any waves more than made up for it, though, so I let him have hisway without too much fuss. Speaking of which, my Jess has fit in with my family better than anyone who came before her.
The women I’d dated before my heart chose her didn’t even come close, and it was plain to everyone. Mom had all but given up her place as matriarch, passing the reins over to Jess as the wife of the firstborn, but Jess was not having it. She swore that if Victoria didn’t take half the load, she wouldn’t lift a finger.
Mom couldn’t care less; she and Dad had a year of travel already planned and would only be home for the holidays and to spend time with their grandkids. Roman and I were apparently on our own. At first, I thought this was the reason for Jess’s upset stomach and lit into Mom for putting all this on her so soon after the wedding, but Mom just rolled her eyes, laughed, and picked up the phone to call Mrs. Thornton, my new mother-in-law.
When I heard the word pregnant, my knees buckled, and my head spun. That was the first time I suspected she might be with child. Dad had to put his two cents in then, asking me what I thought was going to happen after all the time we spent locked away behind closed doors, and I had to threaten him to mind his own business, or I’d tell Mom about some of his shenanigans behind her back.
Somehow I had turned into my brother, the tyrant, and only now do I understand why he’s the way he is with his wife. Having that heavy responsibility for another life is no small matter. I panic when I have to leave her, and think about her every few seconds, and if I could, I would drag her around with me everywhere I go.
That nut would never allow that, though, because she’s not suffering under the same curse I am. She likes her freedom way too much, if you ask me, and now that my ring is on her finger, she seems even more out of control than before. She’s like a bird whose pinioned wings had been fixed, and there’s a new light inher eyes that I now use to measure where we are from one day to the next.
If that light dims, I know I’m in trouble, whether because of something I did or something she imagined me doing. Hormones have made her imagination run off the rails, and it’s always a toss-up from one day to the next what will come out of her mouth.
I thought for sure once she calmed down and accepted the pregnancy that she’d be much easier to get along with, but nope, that was just wishful thinking on my part. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m almost certain that she’s even worse now.
JESSICA
This kid had better stop messingwith me or else. For the past few months, I’ve done a very good job of ignoring it, but now that my tummy is sticking out in front of me, it’s kind of hard to do that. Everyone within earshot seems to gravitate to my stomach these days, as if I’m some vessel carrying around an anomaly.
What’s with women and pregnant bellies? Even strangers get that weird look in their eyes when they see me and want to touch. I’ve lost count of how many hands I’ve slapped away in the last month alone. They always seem offended that I didn’t let them grope me in public, as if that’s supposed to matter to me.
They have no idea that the thing’s father is always attached to it as soon as he walks through the door in the evening, and that’s about all I can take. He’s lost his damn mind if you ask me, because I don’t see the fascination.
I get it, women are supposed to be all gaga over bringing new life into the world, but there are already about ten billion idiots walking around out there; where’s the need for more?
Not only that, but it makes me do things against my will, and I’m not down with that. Who the hell ever heard of dipping sour pickles in peanut butter as a meal? And who the hell has ever heard of being tired immediately after waking up in the morning?
He’s zapped all of my energy, making me walk ten times slower than normal, and I can’t fit into any of my clothes. When I complain, the people around me just smile and give me looks like I’ve lost my mind. Only my sister and sister-in-law seem to get it; they’re the ones keeping me sane.
My husband- get that- I is married now, and I have the big ass rock to prove it. But if I could have the rock, the party, and the sex without the annoying man attached to it, that would be better. He’s so damn clingy. He monitors everything. How much I ate, and how much sleep I’m getting. All so he can pull out his little notebook in the doctor’s office to tattle on me.
At least he’s good for foot rubs and massages- oh, and dick- can’t forget the dick. Right now, I can feel his eyes on me as I cross the room. He’s probably dying to say something about my choice of snacks again, but the memory of what happened the last time he did that is probably holding him back. That knot on his head took a few days to go down, and he’d have a hard time explaining another one away.
Other than his annoying self, life has been a breeze. We had a marvelous wedding, planned and orchestrated by our mothers and the bevy of wedding planners they’d hired. They needed more than one because between our two families, there were a thousand people on the invite list.
I’d never heard of such a thing, but it worked out well in the end. One of the agencies worked on the décor, while the otherwas more focused on food and seating, I guess. I wouldn’t know, since I wasn’t allowed a say in anything other than when and where.
I’ve heard friends mumble in the past about not being involved; now I think they’re nuts. Who the hell wants that hassle? I was fine just showing up and letting loose after the nuptials. The food was good, the party was great, and everyone had a good time on my father’s dime, hooray.
The honeymoon was another matter that I paid very close attention to. Since I love to travel, I was very aware of my partner’s habits to ensure that they matched up with mine, and he didn’t disappoint. I can take him anywhere around the world and be sure to have a good time.
That was the plan, until we came back and I found out there was an alien being taking up space in my gut. I thought the nausea and headache were from the different time zone and climate, but color me stupid, it was a baby. How the hell he got there, I don’t know.
I yelled and threatened, but nothing worked; he stayed put, the little shit. Everyone thinks that I’ve lost it, but what do they know? I’m here to tell you: anything that gives this much trouble out of the gate is bound to be trouble.
