MR AND MRS

13.

Four weeks later

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Olivia’s bedroom, casting a warm glow across the room. It was a regular Saturday, the kind where Olivia took her time, savoring the quiet moments before the day unfolded. She sat cross-legged on her bed, her hands gently massaging coconut oil into the gentle curve of her growing baby bump. The scent of the oil filled the air, soothing and familiar, as she hummed softly to herself.

“Hey, little one,” she murmured, her voice tender as she spoke to her baby. “We're gonna have a nice day today, huh? Probably just me and you chilling, maybe a little ice cream later.” She smiled, her fingers tracing circles over her skin, imagining the tiny life inside her. She had no idea what was coming, no inkling that this ordinary day was about to become extraordinary.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her from her thoughts. She reached for it, expecting a meme from Jordan or a check-in from her mom. Instead, it was a text from Spencer:

Wear something white and elegant. I’m picking you up at 5. Be ready, Liv.

Olivia’s brow furrowed, a mix of curiosity and amusement tugging at her lips. “What’s this boy up to?” she muttered, typing back a quick."Okay, but what’s the vibe?" His response was vague: "Just trust me." She shook her head, chuckling, and set the phone down. Spencer had been surprising her lately—little gestures, stolen kisses, moments that made her heart race—but she didn’t think much of it. They were close, closer than they’d ever been, their connection deepening over the past four weeks. They kissed often, each one a promise of something more, but they hadn’t defined what they were. Not yet.

She spent the day puttering around, choosing a flowing white dress that hugged her curves and accentuated her bump in a way that made her feel radiant. She curled her hair, letting it fall in soft waves, and kept her makeup light, natural. By the time Spencer knocked on her door, she was ready, her heart fluttering with anticipation despite her assumption it was just a sweet date night.

“You look incredible,” Spencer said when she opened the door, his eyes drinking her in. He wore a crisp white shirt and tailored pants, his smile both warm and secretive.

“You clean up nice yourself,” she teased, stepping into his arms for a quick kiss that lingered just a moment too long. “So, where we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, his voice low and playful as he took her hand and led her to his car.

***

The drive to the beach was filled with their usual banter, Olivia teasing Spencer about his music choices while he pretended to be offended. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, when they arrived. Spencer led her to a secluded spot where a blanket was spread out on the sand, a picnic basket waiting, fairy lights twinkling around a small canopy. A table was set with candles, plates of grilled shrimp, fresh fruit, and her favorite chocolate-dipped strawberries.

“Spencer, this is beautiful,” Olivia said, her voice soft with awe as she took it all in. “You did all this?”

“For you,” he said simply, pulling out a chair for her. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

They sat, the sound of waves crashing a gentle backdrop as they ate and talked. Olivia laughed as Spencer recounted a story about Dillon trying to “borrow” his car for a date, and Spencer listened intently as Olivia shared her latest podcast idea. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the kind of ease that came from knowing someone deeply. Every so often, their hands brushed, or their eyes locked, and the air between them crackled with unspoken promises.