Never Giving Up (Never #3)(27)
I was hardly conscious when he pulled me from the shower, dried and dressed me, and put me in the king-sized bed. The last thing I remembered was feeling the comforter being pulled over me and his lips on my temple, telling me he loved me before I drifted into darkness.
Living with a pregnant woman was more challenging than I could have ever anticipated. Not only was I trying to deal with running, essentially, two businesses, I was constantly worried about Ella and the baby. When we were together, my focus was making sure she had anything and everything she needed. Most days she was happily content, if not stubbornly independent. Did I want her walking up the two flights of stairs to get her giant pillow from the bedroom? No. Did she want to get it herself because she was, as she so eloquently stated, “Pregnant, not immobile?” Yes. So, I found myself compromising a lot—picking my battles. I let her make her way up the stairs all she wanted, but I made sure to carry in all of the groceries, do all the laundry, and generally make life easier for her. Of course, I had to be sneaky about all of it so she didn’t catch on. I figured eventually she’d tire of walking up stairs.
Today she was six months pregnant and her bulge from a few months ago blossomed into the most beautiful bump I’d ever seen. She was perfectly round in all the right places. My newest favorite activity was just sitting on the couch with my hands on her stomach, coaxing our baby into kicking so I could feel the most incredible thing in the world: my baby moving in her belly. The baby would kick, Ella would laugh, and I rode the wave of bliss that came over me every time.
Each day she grew more beautiful, more precious to me, and more impressive. Motherhood was something she was inherently good at. Our baby wasn’t even born and yet, she already was a great mother. The fear in the beginning of pregnancy of the actual birth, transformed into a need to be educated and prepared. She took Lamaze classes, prenatal yoga classes, and read every book she could about childbirth. I did not envy the task and tried to hide the fear that slowly grew inside of me. The bigger her belly grew, the more I grasped the idea that she would, in fact, have to birth a baby. So, if I had to run to the grocery store for mint ice cream at three in the morning, so be it.
I stood next to Patrick, watching my gorgeous wife walk down the aisle, wearing a flowing dress that took my breath away. She eyed me as she walked towards the altar, smiling like she had a secret. I almost didn’t notice when Megan started her walk down the aisle, I was so caught up in Ella. Then everyone stood and looked at Megan and my eyes were drawn to the bride making her way towards her groom.
Megan became one of my favorite people in the last year. She was still young and sometimes acted her age, but she was a great sister and simply fun to be around. She and Patrick were a phenomenal couple and I admired him for loving Megan as she was, never trying to reign her in. Her hand was threaded through her father’s elbow as he walked her down the aisle, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, looking at Patrick with clear and obvious love.
The ceremony wasn’t long, but filled with love and commitment. Traditional vows were made by both bride and groom and were spoken with such conviction I had no doubt they were making a conscious decision, not going into the marriage lightly. I was proud of both of them. I looked over at my own bride as she watched her little sister kiss her husband for the first time, wiping tears from her eyes. She looked over at me briefly and I winked at her, wanting to wipe the tears from her eyes myself.
I kissed her temple as she met me to walk back down the aisle, and felt my heart beat faster when she leaned into me, taking the comfort I was offering. She could be stubborn about a lot of things, but taking the love I offered her was never one of them.
Our duties in the wedding were over with the ceremony and I was very much looking forward to spending some time with my wife; she’d been noticeably absent the last couple of days, making sure everything with Megan’s wedding was on track. Both Poppy and Dahlia were closed today so that all the girls could be here to celebrate, and that was a big deal in and of itself. The only time a store was closed in the past was just shortly after the shooting at Poppy. Megan was moved when Ella told her the stores would both be closed.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered into Ella’s ear as we danced. My hand was on the small of her back, pulling her close to me.
“Thank you. I paid someone a lot of money to make me look this way,” she said with a laugh.
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
She smiled at me, her blue eyes sparkling. “Thank you.” Her voice was soft and light. We swayed back and forth to the music and we both had to laugh when a big thump was felt against my stomach, coming from hers. “Baby wants to dance too,” she said as her hand came to the spot she’d just been kicked in.
“I still can’t believe the two of you won’t find out what you’re having,” Megan said as her and Patrick danced up next to us. We, all four, stopped dancing while Megan laid her hand on Ella’s stomach, hoping to feel the baby move.
“We know what we’re having, Megan—a baby.”
“You know what I mean,” Megan responded with a sigh.
“I’m really looking forward to the surprise,” I said as I took my wife back into my arms, wanting her belly and baby kicks to be saved for me alone.
Megan looked over at her new groom. “Don’t get any ideas. When we get pregnant, we’re finding out if it’s a boy or a girl.”