His Loving Eyes [18+]

69

I watch my wife as she animatedly reprimands the moving company guy. "How many times have I told you to be delicate with moving my clothes?" she exclaims, her hands gesturing wildly through the air. She is a force of nature, a captivating whirlwind of determination and grace, and I can't help but admire her from my spot on the sofa.

Just taking her in—her curves, her fierce demeanor, the way the sunlight plays on her hair—makes my heart swell with love and a desire to protect her. Overwhelmed with tenderness, I stand up and walk over to her, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Evelina, yelling isn't good for you or the baby," I say softly. "They know what they're doing."

The guy from the moving company nods nervously and heads back to our bedroom to continue with the boxes. Evelina huffs, crossing her arms, her lips pursed into a stubborn frown. I gently turn her around to face me. Her eyebrows are furrowed, worry lines creasing her forehead. Her frustration is palpable, the long, grueling hours of the move wearing on her.

I cup her cheek, drawing her gaze into mine, and bend down to kiss her forehead. "You need to relax and sit with me," I urge.

Her tense shoulders finally sag as she lets out a deep breath, dropping her arms to her sides. She allows me to lead her back to the sofa where we both sink down.

We are supposed to be on our second honeymoon, a joyful getaway I meticulously planned to celebrate our anniversary. But the sinister package—the ring and its ominous message—has changed everything. I had to cancel our plans, citing the need to move to our new house earlier than expected to avoid the strain of relocation later during her pregnancy.

I handed over the package to the police, and the ring was verified as my mother's, the very one torn from Evelina during that dreadful attack. My heart clenches with the weight of the secrets pressing down on me.

Evelina places a warm hand over mine, her eyes searching my face. "You've been overthinking a lot lately," she observes softly. "I realize now I should have told you that I wasn't on birth control anymore. Maybe you weren't ready for a child at this moment. After all, we did say we'd wait two years."

I raise my eyebrows, surprised by her self-doubt. Bringing my hand up to stroke her cheek, I say earnestly, "Don't ever think that. You can't imagine how happy I am."

Her eyes brighten, a hopeful smile touching her lips. "You are?"

I let my hand rest on her belly, feeling the warmth and life growing within. "I am. I'm in disbelief that my dream of becoming a father is coming true."

Her smile widens, her hand covering mine. "Then what's worrying you? Since our anniversary, you haven't been yourself."

How can I tell her that she has a target on her back because of me? That danger looms over her and our unborn child? The weight of the truth presses against my chest, but I can't bear to darken her joy with my fears.