Page 57 of Slightly Married
“We share a bedroom.” Her request held a vulnerability that touched me.
“I can arrange that,” I promised.
“Good.” Her fingers intertwined with mine more firmly. “Because I’m not ready to wake up without you lying under me.”
Neither was I, but before I could voice this, a hush fell over the immediate vicinity. I scanned the crowd and found Santo kneeling before Tia.
Camera flashes erupted around the couple as Santo spoke words we couldn’t hear from our position.
“He’s proposing,” Kayla whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “After only knowing her for—”
“When you know, you know,” I replied, surprising myself with the sentiment.
My gaze shifted from the unfolding scene to my wife’s profile, struck by the realization that despite our unconventional beginning, I was genuinely pleased to have her as my wife.
19
Iglanced around the home furnishing boutique, taking in the elegant display of handcrafted wooden side tables and plush velvet throw pillows. The shop’s soft lighting created a warm, intimate atmosphere, matching my suddenly euphoric mood.
“I’m pregnant,” I told my sister as soon as she answered.
The words felt surreal leaving my lips. When we’d returned to Athens, I’d taken two tests, both negative. But the unusual mid-afternoon fatigue and tenderness I felt when Konstantin’s hand brushed against my breast had grown increasingly insistent.
A week later, I’d visited the clinic for a blood test, unable to ignore the signs any longer. I sank deeper into the velvet ottoman where I’d been sitting when the nurse called with the results and my due date—April 20th.
“Oh, my goodness! Congrats, sis! Can’t believe you’re entering your mummy era!” Simone’s excited voice filled my ear, bringing an immediate smile to my face.
“I know!” I replied, running my free hand over my stomach. “I keep touching my tummy like I’ll suddenly feel something, even though I know it’s too early.”
“How does Konstantin feel? This baby means fulfilling Daddy’s conditions.” The practical side of Simone always emerged, even in moments of celebration.
I wondered how Konstantin would react. The way he’d held me in Corfu, the conversations we had. Those moments had felt real.
But this baby changed everything. The clock on our arrangement would now begin counting down, tying us together for at least eighteen years.
Would Konstantin see our child as an heir, a condition met, or something more personal? And what did I want him to feel?
I gazed out the boutique’s front window, watching fashionable Athenians stroll past, all oblivious to my world shifting on its axis. “You’re the first to know. Konstantin has been trying to catch up on all he missed while we were in Corfu.”
I barely saw him after we returned from Corfu. We saw each other in the mornings during breakfast and again when he slid under the sheets at night to hold me.
“Sis, I’m so happy for you!” Simone’s voice softened, and I could picture her bright smile.
“Me too,” I replied, watching a couple across the room debate the merits of a dining table. “Now I just need to figure out the perfect way to tell K he’s going to be a daddy.”
“Ooh, do something creative!” Simone suggested. “Maybe hide a test in a gift box or order one of those custom onesies that says ‘Daddy’s little CFO’ or something cute like that.”
I laughed, the sound drawing a glance from a woman examining throw pillows nearby. “That’s so not his style. Konstantin would probably appreciate a spreadsheet with the projected costs and ROI.”
“Return on investment for a baby?” Simone giggled.
“Between Daddy’s conditions and K’s prenuptial agreement, this baby is literally worth millions.”
I stood up, wandering toward a display of nursery furniture while balancing my phone between ear and shoulder. My fingers traced the smooth curve of a wooden crib.
“Speaking of Daddy,” Simone’s voice took on a more serious tone, “he’s dealing with a shadow investor who’s buying shares of the company at a rapid pace. Someone’s been playing the stock market at our expense. There’s tension within the board, as everyone has been pointing fingers at each other.”
“Oh, my,” I said, my pregnancy momentarily forgotten. “How’s Daddy holding up? What can I do?”
