Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Life is good right now. But life doesn’t always stay this way. I tell myself I have to enjoy it, but there’s always a new fire to put out and always something minor to stress over, and I have to admit, I’m afraid of becoming a mother. I don’t know what that’ll do.
Peter hasn’t even punched me in the face for like six months and I hate it.
Not that I can tell Kacia those details though I suspect she understands the general idea.
A car door slams down below and I hear the sound of the boys coming home. “Ah, well, it was good while it lasted.”
Kacia laughs and we head inside together. We’re both wearing flowy cover-ups over bikinis, and I love the way our men stop and stare at us when they get into the door. Luca looks at Kacia like he wants to devour her, and Peter stares at me like he’s a moth mesmerized by a flame. He comes to me and kisses me, pulling me up into his arms.
“How’s my wife doing?” he murmurs in my ear. “I missed you.”
“You were gone for three hours. Did you and Luca get along?”
“So far so good.” He glances over where Kacia and Luca are speaking quietly with each other in the kitchen. “How’s she doing?”
“Adjusting to motherhood, but good.”
“And how are you adjusting?” He touches my belly softly. “Kicking today?”
“Always kicking,” I complain. “I’m going to have the most active baby imaginable.”
“That’s good. We’ll have big, strong babies. Boys or girls, whatever.”
“How progressive.”
“That’s me, a progressive crime lord.”
I laugh and kiss him as Kacia and Luca start preparing dinner. We have staff to cook and clean, but apparently, they got into cooking together. I sit at the kitchen counter with Peter and the four of us fall into a familiar, comfortable, easy conversation with lots of laughter, and I’m suddenly intensely aware of how fucking perfect this is.
My husband, my partner, my equal, my Peter. The father of my future baby. The love of my life. He’s sitting with me, laughing, grinning.
My best friend and her husband, cooking and telling stories.
This is what I worked so hard for. This, right here, in the house I worked for and earned with my own blood and sweat, this moment is heaven.
But the best part is knowing I’ll have more of these nights, so many more nights to come.
Peter pours the wine. He even gives me a few drops. “Just a little bit,” he says with a wink. “But don’t get any ideas.”
I punch his arm and he kisses me gently.
“Easy there, you two,” Luca says, pointing with his spatula. “I hope you’re both hungry.”
“Starving,” I say, and Kacia makes a joke about me always being hungry, and we laugh for a while, and for a while, life is perfect.