Bishop |18+|

Bonus Chapter - The sweetest gift

Alia

~2 years after the marriage~

Valentine's Day—an excuse Antonio used to spoil me to the rotten core.

My husband doesn't bother being discreet about it and I swear he's got some hidden ability somewhere deep within him that made him to be one of the sweetest romances I've ever seen. So sweet.

He's a charmer, the biggest fucking charmer any lucky girl could ever ask for and I can't tell you how many times I'd be willing to marry him all over again. For the past two years of our marriage, Valentine's always ended in one thing—and that was his gift of making sweet sweet love to me.

Antonio cherished this day, on a dangerously obsessive level. A good thing, yes. He charmed me, worshipped me like I was a queen, and god was it the most addictive thing to ever see.

It was pretty much muscle memory embedded into him to come home carrying a huge bouquet of roses, and probably three other black gift bags of who-knows-what jewels he managed to get for me. And the look on his face when he opens the door to see me waiting for him, throwing my arms open for his huge and warm embrace... it can make me melt like a fucking candle.

His dimples, his smile. His awfully stoic and sharp face that I somehow managed to break in mere seconds.

That's what I live for. Everyday.

This time I had a gift for him. And only for him. It's been one that I've been planning for months and after finally hitting the jackpot following a year of practically praying to the stars, I've got it.

Sitting down on the arm of the couch in nothing more than his cream hoodie and shorts, I looked down at the white plastic sticks I held in my hand. Three of them—all showing the exact same thing I've been dying to see after 7 months of waiting.

A pink plus sign.

His Valentine's gift. If it weren't for Antonio's resilience and optimism throughout this whole journey, I would've sworn I'd have given up on the first month.

We've tried IVF, and that has proven to be such a difficult process knowing my husband's funds were being sucked out, only to get that confirmation that the cycle was unsuccessful. 3 cycles, and the chances were only bound to get lower and lower with each new attempt.

The day the doctors stopped our medical plan and recommended other fertility treatments was the day I broke down to tears in his arms, knowing I couldn't even do the simple task of gifting him the one thing he asked from me.

Yet, here I am, looking down at the tests in my hand. Plural, because I've tested myself three times just to make sure I wasn't seeing shit the first time.

It was nearing 5pm, the usual time Antonio comes home. Knowing he was about to come in with a bunch of presents for me, I excitingly placed the pregnancy tests into a little white gift bag, closing it before resting it against a cushion beside me. No amount of fucking words can describe the explosion of emotions flooding through my system right now. I couldn't wait to see his reaction, and knowing myself, I bet I'd probably cry before he opens it up.

A light pierced through the glass windows and turning my head, I set my gaze out on the black Audi that parked on the gravel driveway. When he finally dragged himself out of the driver's seat, every ounce of patience that I swore I'd keep flew out the window before I ran to the door to open it up for him.