JESSICA
Idon’t think it’s hit me yet. The fact that I’m engaged to the only man I’ve ever truly loved, that I’m pregnant with his child and that despite everything wrong with the world, our little corner of it is perfect. It’s good. I’m good, and I feel happier than I ever have been.
“You look beautiful.” Vince releases me from his snug embrace and walks around the counter to the stove to flip his pancakes.
“I just woke up.” I sniff, rubbing my fists over my sleep-filled eyes.
“And?” He flashes me a smirk that makes my heart beat faster, and I grin at my plate.
“You’re too cute for your own good,” I say, grabbing my fork and taking a bite of my eggs.
“Cute?” He exaggerates. I cover my hand over my mouth to hide my smile as I nod. “I’m a man.” He scoffs jokingly, sounding extra British, while he tosses another perfectly puffy golden pancake onto a plate.
“A very cute man,” I add with a finger in the air, and he puts his hands on his hips, turning to meet my gaze. He tries to keep a straight face, but I'm already blinking at him with a smile that reaches my eyes, and he can’t help it. His lips turn up at the corners, and he shakes his head.
“What else am I?” He turns off the stove and walks around with his plate stacked about a foot high with pancakes.
“My personal chef, apparently.” I look at his pile, and he gives me a nod, eyebrows suggesting I have a good point, but not really the point he was looking for. He sits next to me, and I can tell he’s unsure if he should keep pushing for the answer he really wants. He looks down at the ring on my finger— very obviously, I might add— then back into my eyes with pursed lips.
I let out a laugh and take a sip of my orange juice.
“You’re my fiancé,” I say with a toothy grin and roll my eyes, even though I love saying it. His cheeks raise to his eyes as he beams with delight.
“Bloody right.” He pushes his tongue to his cheek, and my face hurts from beaming so hard. I love the way he makes me feel, and I’m so beyond excited that I’ll get to have him like this for the rest of my life. We’re giddy the rest of the day with each other, going about our usual Sunday routine of basic chores to start us on a good foot for the rest of the week.
Vince leaves for part of the day, says he has a little meeting to attend, and I don't ask questions because he’s got that plotting look in his eyes. That usually means he’s going to surprise me with something, though I can't imagine what. Everything is already perfect.
Tonight we have dinner with the whole family. I’m not fully sure what the whole reason is besides to get together. Two things are certain to be the main topic of conversation— our baby and our engagement. I try to run through possible talking points. I like to do that when I know I’m going to be around the boys. Occasionally, it can be overwhelming, and I’ve never been an over-thinker, but this seems to be the best way to get me through the brunt of the surface conversations, considering I’ll also be sober.
I touch my stomach, so happy to have our baby growing inside me, as I shuffle out of the laundry room and check the time on the oven. It’s already 5 p.m. I guess I should start getting ready. Just as the thought passes through my brain, I hear the shower start. Guess Vince got the same idea at the same time. Quickly I cross into the bedroom with a little laugh because it’s funny how in sync we are.
The closet is the first place I go, grabbing another gifted outfit, a cream off-the-shoulder Valentino cropped sweater. I pair it with my Gucci floral skirt that stops just above my knees. It also has Balenziaga written across in a pattern, which Vince says is a collaboration. Anyway, I picked the skirt out myself, so I was rather proud I felt confident enough to choose it.
“Wear it with the cream knee-high boots.” Vince comes out in the nude, his long wet hair dripping all over the wood floors. I jump a little at the sound of his voice, looking over my shoulder as he goes to his closet on the opposite side of the room.
“Hmm.” I wonder aloud as if I’m considering not listening to his suggestion. I like the boots, and I trust his sense of fashion over mine, given the fact that I didn’t really enjoy wearing clothes that properly fit me until now. My newfound confidence is partly because of the way Vince loves me, but mostly because I’ve realized my beauty comes from resilient strength to persevere.
Instead of being shy about who I am, I’ve grown to accept what is and know that nothing is permanent, and that’s the beauty of life. Almost dying might have attributed to my philosophy or the new life growing within me… either way, I’m content with myself, and Vince has supported me every step of the way. We truly are perfectly designed to bring out the best in one another.
After fixing my hair and doing a soft makeup look, I meet Vince in the kitchen. He’s strapping a gun to the inside of his suit pocket, and I stop in my tracks, feeling slightly annoyed.
“Why are you taking that to a family dinner?” I cross my arms over my chest, and he whips around, clearly not expecting me yet.
“Oh. It’s just precautionary. I want to keep you safe.” He shoves a hand through his hair, but I know it’s not because he feels calm. The action is less assuring than he intended. I let out a sigh, and his lips twitch into a smile.
“It’s a protection detail.”
“The boys are our protection detail.” I blink, and he rubs his hands over my arms before pulling me into a hug.
“Let me have this one fragment of control over keeping you safe.” He kisses the top of my head and places a hand on my small bump. When I look into his eyes, it’s all over— all the annoyance and frustration. His confident, bright greens reassure me, and I kiss his cheek with a nod.
“Let’s go.” I pull him by his hand to the elevator, and we proceed inside, Lee standing by the buttons. He hits the garage level, and we descend to the car, which is already filled with the boys from the lower floors. They engage Vince in conversation as we exit the parking garage., I focus mostly on looking out the window and going over appropriate topics of conversation in my head.
The entire ride there, Vince’s fingers lace with mine, and he squeezes tighter to check up on me now and then. I squeeze back, still looking intently out the window. It’s a long drive, no different from how I remember it was several months ago, but somehow I feel more nervous presently. As we pull around the rotunda entrance, I take one last deep breath, and Vince presses our held hands to my stomach.
“You look perfect.” He whispers in my ear, his breath on my skin sending chills down my spine in the best way. I turn my head to him, and we press our foreheads together, giggling to ourselves as we look into each other’s eyes. The rest of the world disappears when we’re together, and every fear I have about tonight is once again at ease with the cure of his green eyes.
Our car is almost empty by the time we reconnect with reality, and Lee opens the door on my side, giving me his hand to help me down. I oblige, taking his rough, meaty fingers and sliding down to the gravel. Vince still has my other hand, joining my side as we walk up to the steps. I hear the group chattering already before I see the open door.