Baronè Family | I

𝟙𝟙𝟚

Ｏｕｒ Ｌａｓｔ Ｄａｔｅ

Definition ~

○ Question? (n.)○

If not us, who. If not us now, when?

"Date? Where?"

"A stay-at-home date," Harrison said with a soft smile. "I want to make you dinner."

I blinked in surprise. Harrison cooking? That was new, and frankly, I wasn't sure how much I trusted him in the kitchen.

"Do you not trust me with a knife?" He smirked.

"Of course, I do... but in the kitchen? That's another story," I teased. We laughed together as he helped me down the stairs and into the car.

At the grocery store, we walked arm in arm, and I couldn't help but giggle when I saw the ingredients. "Pasta? How original for an Italian."

He grinned. "You'll see."

As we made our way to the checkout, we passed an elderly couple, their arms linked just like ours. The sight tugged at my heartstrings. I imagined Harrison and me in our golden years, raising our boys, watching them grow into men, and spending the rest of our lives together.

Harrison must have noticed too. He leaned in close and whispered, "Did you know that sometimes you meet a person and you just click? It's like you've known them your whole life... That's how I feel about you, Aideen. You're my person."

My breath caught as he gently pulled me into a kiss, pressing his lips to my forehead. It was moments like these that made my heart swell with love.

After paying for the groceries, we headed back to our new home. The warmth of the house greeted us, the fire crackling in the background.

"Aideen," Harrison called from the doorway, his voice steady but laced with something more.

I turned to see him kneeling down, a small black box in his hand. My breath hitched as he opened it, revealing an oval-shaped diamond ring set on a simple silver band.

"This may not be the most romantic setting," he began, "but I need you to promise me... that we'll be together forever. Promise me you'll never leave."

"Fuck you, Harrison," I muttered, my voice thick with emotion. And fuck you, pregnancy hormones, I thought as tears streamed down my face. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I offered my hand, and he slid the ring onto my finger.

I couldn't stop crying, but it wasn't sadness—it was overwhelming joy. My body shook with a mixture of laughter and sobs as Harrison helped me to my feet.

He cupped my face in his hands, kissing me fiercely. "Stop crying. I hate seeing you cry," he murmured, his forehead pressed against mine.

"These are happy tears, I swear," I whispered back, smiling through the flood. He wiped away the remaining drops before stealing another kiss, this one softer, gentler.

"So, are you and the boys hungry?" Harrison asked, his hand resting protectively over my belly.

I nodded, still too emotional to speak.

"Would you like to help me, Mrs. Barone?"

Oh great, there go the tears again.

In the kitchen, Harrison got to work on his pasta while I busied myself with making cookie dough. Every so often, I'd glance over and see him grinning—his way of reassuring me he knew what he was doing.

When I moved to the sink to wash my hands, Harrison slipped behind me, his hands resting on my hips. "What are you doing? You still have food on the stove," I warned.

"It's all under control," he said, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. He began humming a lullaby, a tune I'd never heard before.

"Where did you learn that?" I asked.

"I didn't. I'm just making it up."

He swayed with me, his hands gently lifting my belly to relieve some of the weight. The tension in my body melted away, and I leaned back into him, sighing in contentment. "You like that?" he murmured.

I nodded, moaning softly in relief.

"Good. Let's eat."

At the dinner table, Harrison had set out candles and a glass of wine for himself. I, of course, had water. The flickering light made everything feel intimate, almost magical.

"So, the Italian knows how to make pasta after all," I teased.

He gripped my thigh under the table, his hand dangerously close. "And the Italian knows how to please a woman too."

Heat rushed to my face as I giggled nervously, trying to focus on finishing my meal. Dinner ended with warm cookies, and after, we snuggled up on the couch. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he rubbed my belly.

The TV was on, but I wasn't paying much attention. I was too wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace, feeling the boys move occasionally.

"Aideen?" Harrison's voice was soft, almost hesitant.

"Mhmm?" I was too relaxed to form words.

"We haven't decided on names for the boys yet," he said, his hand pausing mid-rub. I opened my eyes, staring up at him. He looked down, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Any suggestions?"

"There's Grayson and Carter," I offered, though I wasn't sold on them.

He chuckled. "How about Ace and Asher?"

"No," I replied with a smile. We tossed a few more names back and forth, but nothing stuck.

Suddenly, an idea hit me. I jolted up, startling Harrison. "What about Edward and Jacob?" I suggested with a mischievous grin.

His expression turned horrified. "Absolutely not! My boys are not being named after a vampire and a werewolf from Twilight."

I laughed, lying back down on his chest. "Okay, okay... we'll keep thinking."

After a pause, Harrison said, "On three, let's say the first names that come to mind."

"Okay."

"One, two, three."

"Drystan."
"Adrastus."

We both laughed. But the names lingered in the air, settling over us like they were meant to be. Harrison nodded thoughtfully. "Adrastus Mara Barone and Drystan Mara Barone. It has a nice ring to it."

The boys stirred, as if approving of their new names.

We held each other close, cherishing the quiet moments, knowing that soon, our lives would change forever. But for now, I was content—wrapped in the arms of the man I loved, with our family growing inside me.