《COMPLETED - EDITED》
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A Story of two independent businesses. Getting their fates tied by their fathers to make a stronger alliance.
But it was never meant ...
...to be like this
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Will Aideen Mara, l...
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It's been three months now. I look and feel like I'm going to explode at any moment, but I'm only due in a month. Harrison and I have just moved into our new home that we built in Montana. Excitement buzzes through me as we plan to host a family gathering here soon, a celebration of our growing family.
Harrison is working hard, and he's busy most of the time-either on missions or at the coast, overseeing imports and exports of drugs and supplies. He's also trying to track down Fernando, who has mysteriously disappeared again.
Most days, I find myself checking stocks, ensuring shipments are safe, and that government officials are running smoothly. Meetings fill my schedule, but the most exhausting part is taking long naps while the boys kickbox inside me. They seem eager to make their entrance, and I can't help but wish for the day I finally hold them. To keep fit for that moment, I try to work out, hoping that once I deliver them, shedding the baby fat will be easier. But here I am, trading my hard-earned abs for a prominent baby bump that seems to grow larger by the day.
Today, I headed upstairs, carrying a painting for the boys' bedroom mural that I've been working on for weeks. I convinced Harrison to stay away because it was supposed to be a surprise, a little piece of love just for them.
Standing in front of the pristine white canvas wall, I dipped my paintbrush into the water, feeling the coolness seep into my fingers as I prepared to cover the pencil markings I'd made. The boys' room was painted dark blue, a calming backdrop against one white wall. I began painting, moving my brush in upward strokes to create a pine tree forest, each stroke becoming more fluid as I lost myself in the rhythm of my work. I cleaned my brush, mixing white and black paint to depict a snowy night, each swirl evoking the warmth of my grandmother's lessons.
My grandmother loved painting. She taught me a few tricks with realism oil painting, her gentle encouragement echoing in my mind. I miss her so much; sometimes I wish she were here to see the life I'm building.
Suddenly, I heard a knock at the door. "Aideen?" Harrison's voice called, rich and warm, but I felt my heart sink, knowing he would want to come in.
"I'm busy painting... naked!" I teased, hoping he would take the hint and go away.
"Is that supposed to keep me away?" His voice was playful, laced with mischief.
I cursed under my breath, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. "Yes, you're not allowed in here!" But the door opened anyway, revealing him standing in the doorway, a curious smile spreading across his face.
"Harrison!" I exclaimed, unable to suppress my delight. "And you're dressed. I wonder who's more disappointed... But you're full of paint," I added, glancing down at my splattered clothes.
