Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
And every day, I felt like we were moving toward our future, our forever.
But this was life-changing, a little piece of Pope and me growing inside me. Something that would forever bond us together, keep us close no matter what.
So I took a deep breath and opened the door. Instantly, I smelled marinara sauce and garlic. Pope stepped out from the kitchen and grinned, the white apron he wore splattered with red sauce.
“Hey, baby.” He smiled. “Making some pasta and meatballs.” He disappeared back into the kitchen, only to emerge a moment later with two glasses of wine. “Thirsty?”
The smell of the garlic and marinara and the sight of that white wine slightly splashing around in the clear crystal glass instantly had my stomach turning.
I shook my head, trying to stem off the need to throw up, but it was no use. I dropped my bag and hauled ass to the bathroom.
I fell to my knees once I was by the toilet, flung open the lid, and proceeded to vomit. I was very aware that Pope was standing in the doorway, could feel his presence, his worry.
Once I was done emptying my stomach, I flushed the toilet, closed the lid, and leaned back against the bathtub. I looked up at him, my eyes watery, my stomach queasy. He still held the two glasses of wine, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Olive? Are you okay?” He set the glasses on the bathroom counter and then got on his haunches in front of me. I felt his hand on my forehead, realized I’d closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I covered my mouth with my hand so he wasn’t getting the full effect of the fact that I had just vomited.
“I’m fine,” I said in a muffled voice from behind my palm.
He moved his palm over my forehead before pulling it away. “You don’t have a fever. Did you eat something bad at work? Do you think you’re coming down with the flu or something?” He leaned back, and I dropped my hand to my side, slowly shaking my head.
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I knew I just needed to come out and say what I needed to.
“Let me call the doctor, get you an appointment.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that kind of sickness, Pope.”
He furrowed his brow a second, but then his eyes slightly widened as he dropped his gaze down to my belly.
“Olive?” His voice was so soft, so low I barely heard it. “How long have you known?” He was sitting fully on the floor now, as if he couldn’t hold himself up any longer.
Yeah, I’d felt the same way when I first found out.
I thought about it for a moment and then said, “Half a day?” I chuckled humorlessly, awkwardly, because I was nervous. My heart was racing so fast as I waited for his response, waited to see what he’d say, how he would react when this actually settled in.
He lifted his hand and rubbed his jaw, the sound of his palm moving over his scruff loud in the small bathroom. “A baby, Olive.” He didn’t phrase it like a question.
“Yeah, crazy, right?” My heart was so loud I heard it pounding in my ears.
He looked up at me, pulling his gaze from my belly, his focus crystal clear. For a second, we just sat there, neither of us saying a thing, not even moving, maybe not even breathing. And before I could say anything, try to see what he was thinking, where he was at during all this, Pope pulled me into his lap, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed me passionately.
I got lost in the feelings, in the sensations.
“A baby, Olive. A fucking baby.” He pulled back, a grin spread across his face.
“You’re happy?” God, everything stood still as I asked that.
“Happy?” He chuckled softly. “I’m more than happy. This is what I’ve wanted, baby. This is what I’ve always wanted with you.”
I could have cried as I listened to those words, absorbed them.
“Yeah?”
He chuckled and nodded. “So fucking happy. You’ll be my wife and now the mother of my babies. Damn, I’m so damn happy.” He pulled me in for another hug and I didn’t stop my grin. “You happy?” He didn’t pull back, just kept holding me.
I didn’t need to think about his question to know the answer. “I am, Pope. I really am.” I was the one to pull back, to look in his face. I felt the heaviness of the engagement ring on my finger.
“My wife. My baby.” He cupped my face. “My soulmate.”
And when he leaned in and kissed me, I knew this was exactly where I was supposed to be. Right here in Pope’s arms.
The End