XXVI
Suppressing the grin on my face, I scold her for her language - I'm the bad one, she's the good one and I like it like that besides, her cursing makes me want to do things to her that are inappropriate for the time and place.
"Let's get you to bed," I lead her towards her room, "and you can get on my nerves further when you're laying down."
"I don't know why you insist on carrying me." she stubbornly protests with words though I can tell her body is thankful. "Everyone is looking at us."
I focused for a second and realized it was true - I got so used to people staring at me that I didn't even notice it anymore.
"Who gives a fuck. It's probably because I'm so fucking hot, anyway, not because I'm carrying you."
She snorts but doesn't comment further.
Reaching her room, I kick the door open, pleased to find that coach listened to me and paid for her to have a private room with books and television in it.
Laying her down on the bed, I sit down on the chair opposite her and observe as she kicks the blanket with her tiny legs, who at the moment seem even tinier because of her belly. I wait for her to lay down on the side, facing me. Nervously, I reach for her hands and take them in mine. I kiss them and sigh.
"I missed you so bad. You and that smart mouth of yours. And I kind of missed..." I trail off, my eyes moving towards her belly.
She grins. "He started kicking. Just a few weeks ago. Sometimes it hurts a little, but it kinda feels nice."
I lift my brows up. "He?"
Sophie shrugs. "It's gonna be a boy. I think."
"Fair enough. We'll see in a few weeks." I say and she nods. "Are you nervous?" she asks me and I bite my lip.
"A bit. I don't want to screw things up with him." I admit and squeeze her hands gently.
"You won't." she says it like there's not a bit of doubt in her mind about it and she takes my hands and places it on her bump where my baby is hiding.
I can feel a small kick after a few seconds and I let out a gasp of surprise. "He kicked."
Sophie nods. "Yeah. You know, babies kick with their arms, not feet. It's a common misconception."
"Really? Interesting." I comment, a picture of a baby with boxing gloves in my mind. Not sure how I feel about my child being a boxer, I dismiss the thought and focus on Sophie, the way her big blue eyes shone and her smile revealed her beautiful white teeth - even in hospital gown, she looked absolutely stunning.
"How have you been?" I ask her, making her shrug. "I'm still alive, so obviously not that bad. Just bored, really bored. There's only so much time you can spend reading and watching television before you start going crazy. Maybe a roommate would cheer me up. But then again, mum has been here with me a lot and that really helped, considering you were gone." she pauses, biting her lip. Carefully, she asks:"How have you been?"
Knowing that prison used to be a really sensitive topic for me, I appreciate her concern, but I shrug it off, grinning. "Everyone was scared shitless of me so I had no problems whatsoever, except boredom, like you. Glad we could send each other letters, though." I rub my finger over the back of her hand. "I'm sure you had it worse than me, with no one being there to make you pancakes." I stick out my tongue at her and she giggles.
"Yeah, I missed those."
As the day progresses, we don't run out of topics but instead have more and more to talk about - decoration on the baby's room, the name, what we're going to do after she has the baby, where we'll go on vacation, who will be a godparent, and before we know it, it's pitch black outside, and she's starting to drift off, but not before forcing me to get into bed with her, spooning her.
I notice the small changes in her body; her skin is clearer, her boobs and behind have gotten slightly larger and I have to force myself not to think about fucking her into oblivion, even if it's really fucking hard.
Somehow, the fears about non-existent sex after having children creep into my mind, and I promise to myself that I won't allow that to happen - we're too perfect together to have an imperfect marriage.
"I love you, you know." I whisper to her when she lays her head on my chest, and she murmurs something sleepily in response. I kiss the top of her head, and begin to drift off slowly myself.
When I close my eyes, I see myself walking down a street, a child holding my hand. He has messy brown hair and he walks exactly like me. Smiling, I kneel down, stopping to look at him better.
"Are you hungry?" I ask him but when he turns toward me, chills spread down my spine.
The boy nods, but I can barely notice it, too preoccupied with his big eyes.
Big brown eyes.