Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Talia
“Guess what today is?” I ask Zoe as I pick her up out of her crib. She flails her chubby arms and babbles like crazy, excited to see me.
Last night was the first night in her own room and I swear I got up thirty times throughout the night to check on her. I know she needs to sleep in her own room, but it’s hard to be away from her.
With Aris having burned down their family home recently, Kostas has our home on lockdown. Nobody is allowed to come or go except for him and his men. Stefano had to leave for Italy to get back to work, but my mom has extended her stay. Thankfully, we have a beautiful pool house, complete with its own kitchen and laundry room, so while she’s here, she’s staying there.
“What’s today?” Kostas asks, stepping behind me. I lay Zoe across her changing table so I can change her diaper and get her dressed.
“Today, Miss Zoe is seven months old.” I lean over and blow raspberries on her belly. Her giggles ring out through the room. “Every month when I lived with…” I stop myself, not wanting to bring up Kostas’s brother. With Aris still missing and wreaking havoc all over town, Kostas’s frustration has been at an all-time high. The last thing I want to do is add to that.
“What?” he prompts.
“Never mind. She’s seven months old today, that’s all.”
“Talia.” He picks Zoe up from the changing table then turns to face me. “Whatever happened while we were apart, I want to know. It fucking kills me that I missed out on everything. Your pregnancy, Zoe’s birth, the first six months of her life…”
He’s right. I can’t help what happened while I was being held captive by Aris. And stopping my tradition just because it began while I was at Aris’s house only gives him power he doesn’t deserve.
“I started a tradition when Zoe turned a month old. I would bake cupcakes and after dinner, I would light a candle in one and make a wish. Then afterward, I would take our picture. I would make Aris get it printed and I put each one into a scrap book.”
Kostas smiles softly. “What did you wish for?”
“For you to find us.” I take a breath, not wanting to cry. I started my period this morning, so I know I’m being overly emotional. We’re home and safe, and there’s no reason to cry.
Kostas steps toward me and pushes a wayward strand of hair out of my face. “Looks like this month you’ll have to make a new wish.” He bends slightly and kisses me. It’s sweet and quick, but it still lights my belly on fire.
“Do you still have the scrapbook?” he asks.
“I do. I snatched it when I grabbed our stuff.”
“You’ll have to show it to me,” he insists.
When he steps back, I notice he’s dressed in his suit. “Are you leaving?”
“I need to handle a few things at the office. Handle my parents’ house.”
“Will it be able to be saved?”
“No, but it was fully insured. I need to meet with the agent today to go over everything.” He gives Zoe a kiss, then hands her to me. “I should be home for dinner. Save me a cupcake.” He winks playfully, and I laugh at how damn sexy he is when he’s playful.
After seeing him out, I head into the kitchen to make the cupcakes. My mom comes in as I’m setting them in the oven with a cup of coffee in her hand.
“Did you sleep okay?” I ask, grabbing my own cup of coffee and sitting at the table across from her. Zoe is sitting in her high chair, playing with her new sippy cup and eating her cheerios.
“I slept very well.” She smiles. “That bed is so comfortable. I’m going to have to tell Stefano to buy us one.” She glances into the kitchen. “Baking this early?”
“They’re Zoe’s seven-month cupcakes. I make them every month to celebrate her birthday.”
Mom grins from ear to ear. “Kind of like your birthday pancakes?”
“Yeah.” I laugh, remembering when I was growing up I would insist Mom make pancakes like every day. Not wanting to make them all the time, she would say they were only for special occasions. So, every time I would ask, I would make up an excuse, like it was my twelve-year, two-month birthday. She could’ve totally told me I was full of shit, but she never did. Instead, she would make them every time.
“How’s Kostas doing?” she asks. I hate that I was gone for over a year, but I love that something good came from the shitty situation. A friendship of sorts was formed between Kostas and my mom. And not just between them, but also between Kostas and Phoenix. Well, maybe not a friendship between Kostas and Phoenix per se…but definitely a mutual understanding. Kostas even gave him a job and a place to live at the hotel.