ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 57

RITA IS SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT NOW

RITA

I'm in our baby's Nursery.

(A/N: Do you see how she calls her baby a baby, and not seedling? The way she adapts is so cute.)

Lying sideways on the couch, I want to take a nap — when I feel a shadow linger over me, making me frown, and peek an eye open.

I see Roman, and his deep frown between his brows. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?" he asks, frowning as he picks me up.

Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck while he carries me out of our baby girl's room. We found out months ago that it's a girl.

As soon as the gender was revealed, Roman started renovating the room next to ours into a nursery. Everything is white and pastel pink. He's more excited about decorating than I am.

So I let him do it. He still comes to me with his notebook or catalogs, asking if I like what he's about to buy for our little girl. And I usually agree. He has good taste.

"I was only going to take a nap," I tell him with a smile.

"You could nap on our bed. It's more comfortable than that tiny couch," he says, kissing the top of my head as he walks us into our bedroom and sets me down.

"The couch is comfortable too," I say as he takes off my chanclas.

I'm always in pajamas now, always tired, wanting to nap all the time. I wear chanclas because my feet are swollen and sweat in closed shoes.

Walking barefoot isn't an option, as Roman is too worried about me catching a cold. To prevent such a "risk," according to him, he started installing heaters under the floor.

"It's still not good for your back," he says, pecking my lips before taking off his shirt.

"Don't you have to work?" I ask as he removes his jeans and gets into bed, pulling me onto him so my head rests on his chest. We huddle.

"It's ten in the evening, little flower," he murmurs, caressing my bump.

"Really?" I blink, surprised, glancing at the clock — it is ten. "I actually woke up and wanted to nap again. I thought only ten minutes or so went by..."

"You mean you slept half the day," he mocks.

"Roman!" I gasp, slapping his chest lightly, smiling. "I can't help it! I'm pregnant!"

"And glowing like a goddess," he sighs, his gaze dropping as his hand smooths over my bump. "And kind. And gentle. You're too good for me. I don't deserve you — but I can't let you go. I love you."

I blush, smiling shyly. "Don't say that," I mutter, trying to sit up.

Seeing me struggle, he helps me. "What shouldn't I say? That I love you?"

"No. Tell me you love me — just don't say I'm too good for you or that I deserve better. Because you're the best thing that ever happened to me." I cup his face and kiss him softly. "I'm so grateful that I met you that night."

I remember how I screamed Gaia in the firmament. Be it Gaia, the goddess of nature who heard my desperate calls, or the Lord himself, who sent me a killer as my salvation, I am so grateful for it.

He smirks, pulling me onto his lap. "And I thank the Lord that I didn't kill you that night."

He doesn't say Lucifer. He says Lord. He is changing, for me. He is being good, for me. His efforts and love make me just fold and melt in his embrace.