Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Maybe.” His smile widens. “So…”
“They were positive.”
I force the words out because he’s right. I’ve spent my whole life living in fear of what might happen, of the way things could go, without ever stopping to enjoy the way things are right now.
“I’m pregnant, Zack.” My voice shivers as repressed joy surges through me. Because Zack is smiling, still smiling, even wider and more love-filled than before. I sing the words out over and over. “I’m pregnant, we’re pregnant.”
He punches the air and lets out a whoop. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I laugh and move close to him, staring up into his glimmering eyes. “I guess that means you think this is good news?”
“Good news?” he says, grinning widely. “Good news? This is the best news I ever could’ve wished for. This is it, my sweet artist, the start of the future we’re going to build.”
I claw onto his naked torso, squeezing the solidity of his abs. “I love you, Zack. I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you. I promise I’ll try to be better, you know, with my anxiety, my nerves, whatever you want to call it.”
“Hush.” He leans down and kisses the edge of my mouth, tingles dancing. “You never have to apologize for being you, Zoey. I love you for who you are. I can’t wait to share that love with our children.”
“Neither can I,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.
My man leans down and kisses my teary cheeks, and then continues until he finds my lips and we melt adoringly into each other.
Untitled
Extended Epilogue
One Year Later
Zack
I wake to the sound of Angelica’s crying, a smile on my face. Maybe that makes me slightly crazy that I like waking up to feed our daughter, but ever since I found out Zoey was pregnant, ever since we got married and I made her my wife, I’ve been nonstop happy every second of every day.
Zoey murmurs sleepily and rolls over, moving to sit up.
I stroke my hand along her cheek, savoring the sight of her in the partial moonlight, her gorgeous dark hair spilling down the pillow. It’s a warm evening and she’s thrown off the sheets, giving me a tantalizing view of her curvy body in her silk pajamas.
She thought that the pregnancy weight would make me want her less, but looking at her with all the fertile glory of her body singing from every curve, every voluptuous dimple, it only makes me need her more.
“It’s okay, wife,” I say, which has become my favorite thing to call her.
Wife, wife, wife.
I feel like singing it every time I lay eyes on her.
“I’ll go.”
“Are you sure?” she whispers sleepily.
I lean down and kiss her cheek, but then I move away quickly before I lose control and let my animal instincts take over. They’re always there, simmering beneath the surface, ready to awaken every time I drink in the sight of my woman. My wife.
“I’m sure. We still have some of the bottles, right?”
She smiles sleepily, hazily, such a glorious sight I almost grab my phone and snap a photo of her. Over the past year, I’ve fallen deeper and deeper in love with every part of her, no matter how small, no matter how insignificant it might seem to anybody else.
Her every gesture, every tiny change in her expression, everything about her sets me alight.
“I’m sure. It’s okay. Get some rest. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Zack,” she murmurs, rolling over. “You’re the best.”
“No,” I snarl, as my eyes move over to her round luscious ass, even juicier after the pregnancy. “You’re the fucking best.”
I rise from the bed before I lose control, forcing my gaze away from her round beautiful temptation.
Grabbing some bottled breast milk from the fridge in the corner of the bedroom – it’s easier to have one in here, on hand for feeding time – I move through our house. Walking by all the framed paintings my wife has completed this past year causes love and joy to swell up inside of me.
She’s almost finished the final piece for her exhibit, and a prestigious gallery owner has expressed some interest. I’ve opened two more gyms in the past year and every single one of them is booming, my investments blossoming as well. I even got a massive surge in enrollment after it became public how I’d handled Jerry and his goons.
Life is good, better than good.
Perfect and love-filled and starry and glowing so brightly every moment it makes the beast inside of me howl with joy.
When I walk into our daughter’s bedroom, I feel even more love and contentment blazing through me. I walk over to her crib and pick her up, still stunned at how small she is, how delicate.
“It’s okay, angel,” I whisper, rocking her back and forth.
She makes a cute cooing noise, tugging at pieces of my soul that cause emotion to thunder through me.