Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Great, just tidying up, and then we can start on dinner.”
Scout’s arms shoot out, and he does the cute little toddler dance where his feet move to a beat that’s only in his head. “Dada!”
“How’s my man?” Kingston pauses to kiss my temple and pat my belly. “Did he have a good day?”
“He was fabulous. As always. Ate all his vegetables at lunch, napped like a champion, and finished off the afternoon by showering his cuteness and love all over Lavender.”
“Making girls fall in love with you already, huh?” Kingston scoops him up out of the playpen, gives him a tickle, and kisses his cheek.
“I saw her walking home when I was coming down the street. She doing okay?”
“She is. She’s growing up, fast.”
“They do that.”
We head for the kitchen, put Scout in his playpen again, and get to work on dinner. Kingston feeds Scout while I prepare our meal. Later we get Scout ready for bed together, which is how it always is when he’s home and not on an away series.
I watch my husband tuck our son into bed, kiss his forehead, and tell him he loves him. We don’t go back downstairs after we put Scout to bed. I’m well into my second trimester, so the exhaustion isn’t as profound, but Scout is an early riser, which means I’m often in bed before ten these days. Instead we head to the bedroom, where Kingston helps me into my pajamas, but not before he makes slow, gentle love to me while whispering politely dirty things in my ear.
Afterward we cuddle, me tucked into his side, his hand splayed protectively over my baby bump. I rest my head in the crook of his arm and lay my hand over his chest, feeling his heart beating steady beneath it. Calm, strong, constant.
“I’ve been thinking.” Our best conversations tend to happen in bed, postsex, when I’m cradled in his protective hold and my brain and body are the most settled.
He kisses my temple, and I can feel his slight smile. “About what?”
“With baby two on the way, I thought it might be a good idea to scale back my hours at the clinic and start working from home more.”
He stills and then shifts, tipping my chin up so he can see my face. His is passive, questioning, ready to hear me out. “Okay. Would you like to talk about the why behind the idea?”
“There will be lots of time for me to work as the kids get older, but I want to be here, with them and you, as much as I can right now. They’re where I want my focus. I’ll adjust my hours so I can keep my current clients, but I really want to be a mother first.” Scout was a bit of an accident. I always wanted children, but being raised the way I was, without a stable mother in the picture, made me hesitant. So when I missed a period, panic mode set in. All the what-ifs and the insecurities bubbled to the surface.
Fortunately, I have King, always calm and rational. Always here to help me up when I fall, to remind me that I’m worthy, I’m more than just enough, I’m his everything and he’s mine, and I would be the most amazing mother in the universe. It helps that I have his family, and the wives of his teammates to rely on, as well as my father, who finally found a love of his own. But that’s a whole different story.
Kingston gives me a soft, warm smile. “I’ll support whatever you want to do. I know you’ve worked hard for your career, though.” He kisses my fingertips, nailbeds forever outlined in a rainbow of paint. “And I would never want you to give up what makes you happy.”
I love this man so much. For the better part of four years he was the center of my entire world, and I never thought that would change . . . until Scout came along. He’s become the sun we orient ourselves around. And Kingston is exactly the kind of father I expected him to be: all in, devoted, present, and fully invested.
I’m not afraid of failing anymore, because no matter what, I have the most amazing man at my side. He’s always there to catch me when I fall and to celebrate every success, so making this choice is easy, because I know it’s what’s best not just for me but for our family.
“I’m not giving up what makes me happy; I’m adjusting my path so I can do all the things that make me happy, without compromising any of them. I want to give our kids what I never had, and the more hours I work, the less I can be here with them and you. And I honestly don’t want to split my time more than I already do. I want time with you and Scout, and eventually this little peanut.” I cover the hand on my belly with my own. “More than I want anything else.”