Anastasia

10

I saw Anastasia all dressed up at quarter to nine in the morning while I was helping my son into his jacket. The maid was setting up the pram for her. Anastasia was wearing a black fur coat with a black top and black low-rise jeans. Only she could have a baby and wear low-rise jeans and look so sexy.

Her stomach barely looked like she had a baby; she was really skinny before pregnancy though. I remembered how her hip bones, chest bones, ribcage, shoulder blades, and spine used to stick out, and I felt like I was crushing her. Her body looks healthier now, and she has bigger breasts.

"Where are you going?" I asked her as she put on Valentino's shoes. I could see she was struggling with putting on one shoe, so I bent down to help her.

"I am going on a walk." She said to me with a smile. Her smile always seems to be endearing.

"I will come with you," I stated, I had nothing to do until noon. Her phone began to vibrate, I looked over and it was flipped down.

"Who is that?" Who could be messaging her like crazy at 10 in the morning?

"My doctor." She said. I found that odd, why would her doctor be messaging her? She does not seem to be fazed by it or uncomfortable with telling me, which tells me that whatever the doctor wants is one-sided. Or she just does not know that the doctor wants her, because what kind of doctor messages their patient constantly, even if it was to book health appointments surely the receptionist would?

"I'm ready." She said getting up with Valentino. I take the pram to take it down the stairs outside the front door. Once we got down the stairs I started to put Valentino into his pram. I began to push the pram and clung my arms onto her, which seemed to have taken her aback. I know she has a lack of experience with boys, which is surprising especially never kissing one before.

As we were walking she would just run her hands into bushes we would pass, she is an odd girl. Her drawing journals are also odd, I flicked through them when I was putting her stuff away. Her writing journals were all in Greek, so I could not even read them. The drawings and painting pieces were a mixture of eerie abstracts, scenery and portraits, I also found one of me. She's a good artist, I will give her that. She does not look or seem the type to be one.

"What is your favourite Italian food, my one is pizza." She expressed to me, that I liked how her head tilted when she looked at me and how her mesmerising eyes would blink patiently for my answer.

"Fiorentina steak," I answered her and her thin brows raised.

"I don't like steak, sometimes I want to be vegetarian but I love chicken so much. But I don't like having lamb because they're so cute." She said to me.

"You know the lasagna you had yesterday was lamb," I said recalling back to yesterday and confusion plastered onto her face.

"But Nicola said that it was chicken. No wonder it tasted yummy. You know though when I lived with my dad I only ate porridge, bread and butter. Some days I was not allowed to eat though. So basically I was vegetarian for the majority of my life." She expressed to me, I was about to ask what she meant by days she was not allowed to eat but she had spotted something that caught her guy and it followed with a gasp.

"Let's go to the cafe please." She requested it was a pink cafe no wonder it caught her eye. I nodded and we entered the cafe. We were the only ones there, surprising because most cafes are busy around this time as it is rush hour. But this area is quite secluded.