Enrico
Carisia eventually went back to bed after taking a morning shower. She says she's tired, and so am I, hence why we're having a day off.
"Don't put cinnamon on her toast, sa akin lang. Nasusuka siya dyan," I instructed our personal chef who's making our breakfast today.
"And she specifically requested for pure lemonade. No sweeteners, just water and ice," I added.
I noticed how picky she has become over the weeks. Based on my calculations, she's already on her 3rd month, and my research tells me that it's going to be much more chaotic once she enters the 2nd trimester.
In a way, I'm kind of enjoying it secretly. She might think that I don't pay attention to her changes that much, but I see all of it.
It's surprising how far we've come, from always quarreling to being a bit okay now. We're still cats and dogs when it comes to arguments, but it's much better now.
Never did I imagined all of this happening because I refuse to acknowledge her existence in my life after we got married.
After monitoring half of the breakfast process, I decided to leave the house staff to it and accompany my pregnant wife upstairs.
I stopped in the middle of the staircase when my phone rang in my pocket.
The moment I saw the caller ID, I felt guilt course through my body because I haven't deleted this contact yet.
Incoming call...
Amira
On top of the screen, a notification with Cari's name popped up. It was a text message asking why I'm taking so long.
I shut down my phone and slid it back into my pocket before running upstairs.
Upon entering the room, I found my wife laying on her stomach, enmeshed beneath the layers of covers, with only her head out like a baby.
"I'm sleepy, but I don't want to sleep," she said with her lips in an adorable pout.
"The breakfast is almost done. Kumain ka muna," I told her.
She lazily pulled herself up, and leaned her back against the tall headboard of the bed. When I sat next to her, I got a bit surprised when she leaned her head on my shoulder.
"You feeling anything?" I asked just to consult her because she doesn't cling to me unless she's not feeling well.
"I'm alright. Just want some small chicken," she said.
Chicken? I didn't have any chicken prepared downstairs. It's all breakfast food.
"Why the sudden craving?" I asked.
She took my hand and played with my fingers. "I don't know. Basta I want some small chicken. That will make me feel better," she said.
Chicken. Small chicken. Very specific. Alright. Looks like we're having small chicken for lunch.
A few minutes later, someone knocked outside the door.
"Come in!" Cari yelled, and once the door opened, the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast surrounded the room.
She's been loving toast with chocolate powder on top, and the usual American breakfast. The first few times she had the chocolate toast, pinalalagyan niya ng cinnamon. Now, she throws up when she smells and tastes cinnamon literally anywhere.
