"Fare 5 copie di queste."- I told Raffael, the new sales manager, and handed him the file. (Make 5 copies of these.)
"La signora di Vittori si unisce a noi?"- asked Rocco, one of the sales department workers, and I couldn't help my grin at the mention of my beloved. (Will Mrs di Vittori be joining us?)
"Sono qui, mi scuso."- chirped my angel, entering the boardroom with the most precious smile. (I am here, I apologise.)
My wife.
My beautiful, 23-week pregnant wife.
The mesmerising, comely beauty is neatly accentuated with natural makeup. Downy, luminous, long, midnight black hair falls down her back in elegant, stunning curls. Soft, lustrous, dewy, sleek skin is utterly heavenly and flawless, just a glance at it is enough to take me back to how divine it felt to run my hands over it and kiss every inch of it this morning.
The black, form-fitting dress looks like paradise on her miniature, breathtaking figure. The delicateness of her gorgeous, petite curves is contrasted by the adorable, round, big belly that I cannot adore enough. Her favourite jewellery pieces are on her, she barely takes them off: the Cartier bracelet that I got her for Christmas, a green diamond bracelet, a pendant and dainty earrings. The sweet, alluring, pleasant smell of honey and vanilla is strong, yet so gentle at the same time.
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"My squishy."- murmured my darling happily, snuggling into me as I wrapped her in my embrace, kissing her forehead tenderly.
"You are heavenly, mia piccola cara."- I said warmly, holding her close to myself, and smiled, seeing the most winsome shade of pink colour on her cheeks that got extra cute now, when she is pregnant.
"You are very handsome and cute, mio paradiso."- spoke my wife contentedly as I just smiled brighter, in love with the woman in my arms.
"I am not late, aren't I?"- asked Celest in worry, glancing around, and I kissed her plump, rosy lips gently, laying my hand on her belly.
"Not at all, mio fiorellino. We still have 10 more minutes before the meeting starts."- I assured her and she beamed at me, wrapping her thin, delicate arms around my neck.
"That means you got time to eat a croissant with pistachio filling, gattina."- I said and that was all it took for my angel to shine.
Celest lives on those particular croissants now, she wants at least 2 a day. At first, I worried like mad since she is allergic to peanuts, who the fuck knew if she doesn't get an allergy to pistachios, so I took her to the doctor right on the second day of her vigorous craving and thankfully, she is all good, so now I get her as many as she wishes, she is the happiest, our baby boys are the happiest, therefore, I am the happiest.
