22. Mustaf

There is an energy, something like anticipation that thrums through my veins as I move through the hall, hurrying along. Like a buzz in the back of my brain, it carries my footsteps at a quickened pace until I almost reach the kitchen. Upon reaching the foyer, however, I stand still at the sight that greets me.

Meiko is arranging flowers, barefoot and smiling as she hums a soft tune. Morning sunlight splashes through the front windows and spills across her glowing, growing form. Taking a minute, I hang back at the doorway to simply watch her complete her task, her smile widening with satisfaction at the finished result.

Gods, she is truly a beauty. I've always been a little enchanted by Meiko, but the pregnancy has made her even more attractive. We've been living together for about a month now, and every day is a struggle to hold myself in check. To keep from taking her in my arms and seducing her all over again.

But I smile at the fact, knowing she does not even need to touch me to keep me falling deeper and deeper for her everyday.

"Hey, there," Meiko greets, interrupting my wayward thoughts. She turns her attention from her latest creation and shuffles toward me. I have to make an active effort to not pay attention to the way her new maternity sundress floats around her delicious legs.

I have tried very hard to not remember how those legs felt wrapped around me and have failed miserably every time. "Good morning," I return instead. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Oh, much better, thanks. I think the morning sickness is mostly gone, now I'm just hoping the swelling in my hands and feet will follow." She gives a small chuckle and casts one of those thousand-watt smiles in my direction.

Maybe I'm imagining it, but Meiko seems to smile more and more when I'm in her presence. It makes the tiny cord of hope tighten around my insides.

"I'm glad the morning sickness has passed. That should make breakfast easier. Like the flowers, by the way."

"Ikebana," is her sunny reply. She absently tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and the action makes me want to follow the movement with my own hands.

"Gesundheit," I respond, flashing what I hope is a charming, rakish smirk, because I really have no idea what she just said.

At least I get an amused chuckle from her. "Ikebana is the Japanese art form of flower arranging," she explains easily. "My grandmother taught me ages ago. I just haven't had much time or practical reason to put it into use as an adult."

As we walk along to reach the breakfast nook, I surreptitiously roll my sleeves up my forearms to pretend I'm not looking at her. "I had no idea that was even a thing."

"Oh, sure. Plenty of cultures signify different meanings to various flowers. Many believe that the right arrangement of flowers can be revitalizing and can even promote happiness." She continues the flow of conversation easily, even as we settle into our respective seats for breakfast.

The morning sickness does indeed seem to have abated because this morning she looks positively excited by the prospect, as opposed to green around the gills. "So what do your flowers say today?"

"Well, the irises and the bluebell signify good tidings and gratitude. The azalea represents patience, and the Inca lilies signify a connection that goes beyond what words can normally describe." Absently, she spears a pear slice while she displays her knowledge.

"I'm impressed you can remember all that," I say truthfully. I may know business models and figures like the back of my hand, but Meiko always manages to find some new way to affect me.

"Be impressed I can remember anything at all, as scatterbrained as I am these days." She chuckles. "These pregnancy hormones are ridiculous. They make me look and feel like a cartoon character."

"No way, you're perfect." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Yet even as she looks at me in surprise, I find I don't want to.

She is beyond perfect, something I've thought since our time together in the Maldives. Meiko is beautiful, dedicated, and driven in everything that she does, and her ability to care shines through with even the smallest actions. It's no wonder that I've fallen head over heels in love with her.

I blink at the revelation, even as the silence stretches between us. She looks expectantly at me, probably thinking I'll try to cover up my slip or change the subject. I won't, because this thing between us feels more right than anything I've done in my life.

After another minute, she gives an awkward, coughing laugh and turns back to her breakfast. "We'll see if you feel the same way in a few months when I make you take care of the baby just so I can catch up on some sleep."

"Challenge accepted," I reply easily, throwing her a smirk. Looking at the sudden flush on her cheeks, my grin widens. I've taken her by surprise this morning, and if I'm not mistaken, I think she enjoys it.

Following breakfast, we both retreat to our respective areas of the house to attend our own businesses. Meiko has taken to developing the nursery for our upcoming arrival, and I head to my home office in an attempt to get some work done. This has been our routine as we adjust to living together, and we"re successfully getting used to our arrangement.

An arrangement I find myself questioning, as I read the same file for the third time over. We both agreed to this ‘marriage' as a means to provide stability for our child and to reassure our respective families, with the understanding that we would both maintain a certain amount of independence. But is that really what the both of us want?

Considering my epiphany this morning, I know my answer. I love Meiko, and not because she is the mother of my future child, but because she is incredible. She fills an emptiness in my life I had no idea was even there. Not until she brazenly strolled right up to me in the club that night. However aware I am of my newly found conviction, though, it doesn't mean I know how she feels.

As I do when approaching any unfamiliar situation, I have to take a minute to assess. It's the reason I didn't blurt out a confession at the breakfast nook.

Sure, our attraction is obviously undeniable, but the foundation for a loving family is built on more than chemistry. It's built on trust and honesty as well, both of which are sadly lacking in this instance.

Our relationship is very new, and neither of us really expected this turn in our life. Hell, just a few months ago she was engaged to another man, and I was perfectly content with my bachelor status. Groaning, I think about the string of flings that trail my past like a spectre.

That's no reason to simply give up, a voice echoes inside me. Sure, Meiko probably doesn't trust that I can commit to her. Given my reputation, that's understandable, but I won't let past mistakes make me despair. We've already agreed to share a life together. Now I simply have to convince her that what I want between us is something real and lasting.

When I go down to fix myself some lunch, I see Meiko's already in the kitchen. She's struggling to get something off the highest shelf, and I grin at the opportunity to help her.

"You really don't have to do all this," Meiko says as I reach up to pull another jar from one of the higher shelves. She's flustered by all the attention I've been giving her the past few days, but I'm enjoying myself too much to worry about her typical defenses.

"Do all what?" I ask innocently, gripping the jar even as I hand it to her and making sure our fingers touch a little longer than necessary. She wants to build a living wall in the nursery, and our dining table has become a makeshift garden as a result.

"You know what I mean," she huffs in exasperation. "Always grabbing the stuff I can't reach and making sure I get through doors alright. Ever since I mentioned my feet swelling, you've given me foot-rubs every single day, and there's the notes as well."

"No idea what you're talking about," I respond even as my grin gives me away. Just because I'm holding back on telling her how I feel, that doesn't mean I can't show her how I feel.

"Roses are red, violets are blue, there isn't a new mommy that's more perfect than you." She recites my newest note perfectly, even using exaggerated air quotes with the fingers that aren"t wrapped around her jar. "I'm pretty sure we'll never put ‘poet laureate' on your resume."

That gets a laugh out of me as I move to pull out the seat for her. "Fair enough, but I want to take care of you, so you should let me."

"Take care of me and the baby," she automatically corrects.

"The notes aren't for the baby," I return evenly. She looks up at me, uncertainty crossing her features, and I recognize that look as her walls starting to come up, so I change the subject. "Since you reminded me, though, I have another surprise for you."

Before she can protest, I'm grabbing her gently and pulling her back out of the seat. Guiding her down the hall, I lead her to the nursery, where the baby's newly assembled crib stands proud.

"Oh, Mustaf," she gasps, delight coloring her tone. "When did you put this all together?"

"While you were napping earlier." Using her amazement as a distraction, I wrap my arms around her, my chest to her back so that she can keep examining the baby's new bed.

The baby bed is one of those setups that acts as a bassinet until it can be lifted to become a crib. And, yes, I'm man enough to admit I had to look up the difference. Then it can be converted into a toddler bed. More than another expensive baby present, I want it to represent how I want us to grow as well, to evolve into something beyond what we've agreed to.

Even if I can't tell her the words of love that are on my lips, I can let my actions speak, filling the blanks. I hold her close, closer than I've dared since we started living together.

"It's absolutely wonderful, Mustaf," Meiko says, overcome with emotion. "It's more than I could have hoped for."

"Me, too," I reply sincerely, continuing to hold her. My words are more than an agreement this time, they're a promise I practically whisper against her temple, hoping she understands I mean more than what I can say.

More than the life we've created, there is the future we might build together. That is what I want and what I hope for.