Chapter 9

DELILAH

I stretch, feeling the familiar soreness in my legs and feet from a day on them at the coffee shop. My belly is slightly rounded now, a testament to the little life growing inside of me. I smile, feeling the tiny flutters and kicks of my baby, who we're still calling Little Boba. It's surreal to think there's a whole human being forming inside me. I'm five months along, and those first gentle movements feel like delicate butterfly wings fluttering against my insides.

Today, Derek and I are heading out to try to find a place to call home. With no word from the baby's father, we've decided to do this together. Derek has been my rock, and moving in together feels like the right step for us and Little Boba. We need more space, so we're hunting for a three-bedroom apartment: one bedroom for each of us and one for a nursery, which we've decided will have a cute monster theme.

"Come on, babe, we gotta get going if we wanna be at the first place on time," Derek calls from the living room.

"I'm coming, just let me pee one more time." Pregnancy has turned my bladder into a ticking time bomb, and I feel like I'm peeing every twenty minutes. I do my business and wash my hands, smoothing a few flyaways in the mirror.

"Okay, I'm ready."

We head down to Derek's car, and I climb inside, giggling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, starting the engine.

"I'm just thinking that I'm literally a passenger princess. You drive me everywhere now that I'm pregnant."

"I don't mind. I wanna make sure you're safe," he assures me with a smile. "How's the barista life treating you by the way? You looked like hell when you got off today."

I roll my eyes. "I fucking hate it. The uniform is cringy, and no one is pleasant to be around. I think it could be a fun place to work, but every single coworker is a fucking downer."

"That sucks," he says sympathetically.

"It does. But I'm hoping that while I'm on maternity leave, I can pull in enough clients that I won't need that job anymore."

Derek pulls into a parking spot, and I look out the window at a large brick apartment building. "Oh, I don't know about this place already."

"Let's at least give it a chance," Derek pushes gently.

We step out of the car and head inside. The building has an old, slightly dilapidated feel to it, and the lobby greets us with a musty, damp smell. A bubbly woman with straight dark hair approaches us, her smile bright.

"Derek, Delilah. I'm Nova. I recognize you from your headshots. How are you?" she asks.

"We're good, thanks. So this is it?" Derek asks, glancing around.

"Yeah. Let's head up and see the space, shall we?"

"Nova, can I just ask what floor the apartment is on?" I interject.

"Oh, yeah, no problem. It's on…" She flips through a folder. "Ten."

"Is there an elevator?" Derek asks.

"No, just stairs. But the building is up to code," she adds quickly.

"I'll stop you there. My girl won't be climbing that many stairs, and neither will our baby. Can we move on? Anything without an elevator is out," Derek informs her firmly.

"Oh, sure, yeah. Sorry, Branson didn't mention that," she says, blushing. "No problem. I'll text you the address for the next property, and we'll meet there."

"Perfect," I tell her.

We get back in Derek's car and head to the next property. The second place is a bit more promising, but we want to see the third before making decisions. By the time we're done checking out the third property, I'm exhausted and ready to go home and lie down.

"Can we have a minute, Nova?" Derek asks.

"Yeah, of course," she replies, moving off to the kitchen to fiddle with her phone.

"So, what do you think, babe? Either of these tickle your pickle?" Derek asks, turning to me.

"They're both nice, but I liked the other one."

"The condo, really?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised too. But it's close to downtown, which means not a far commute for either of us, and it's walking distance to that new club in town, Element. I might apply for a job there. I can serve drinks with a belly. It's like a built-in tray." I laugh.

"True, but I don't think you should work late nights," he says, frowning.

"I could do the day shift and just bartend. Nothing crazy. I have to get out of that cesspool of a coffee shop."

"Fine," he concedes.

We tell Nova that the prior place is it, and she hands us the application. Thanks to Branson's connection with the owner, she assures us that our approval will be immediate, and we can move in as soon as we want.

"I can't wait to move in together and get the nursery started. It's gonna be so fucking cute."

Back at my place, I collapse on the couch, my feet throbbing. Derek sits beside me and starts massaging them, his strong hands working wonders.

"Thank you," I murmur, closing my eyes.

"You're welcome," he replies softly. "We've got a ton of shit to do."

"Yeah, we do," I agree. "But I'm glad I have you by my side."

"Always," he says, squeezing my foot gently. "We're in this together."

As I drift off to sleep, I feel Little Boba give a few more kicks, a gentle reminder of the new chapter we're about to begin.

The next morning, I wake up feeling a combination of anticipation and nervous energy. We have so much to do, I can't help but feel overwhelmed. Derek is already in the kitchen, making breakfast. The smell of pancakes fills the air, and my stomach growls in response.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Derek greets me with a smile as I waddle into the kitchen. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good, actually. Little Boba wasn't too restless last night." I rub my belly affectionately. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Well, first we need to drop off the signed lease and deposit at the condo. Then, I thought we could start packing some of your stuff. Maybe even take a trip to the baby store to start planning the nursery?"

"That sounds perfect," I say, my excitement growing. "I can't wait to start decorating. I've got so many ideas."

We eat breakfast together, discussing paint colors, furniture, and all the little details that will make the nursery special. After breakfast, we head to the condo office to finalize the paperwork. Everything goes smoothly, and by lunchtime, we're officially tenants of our new home.

We spend the afternoon packing up my apartment. It's amazing how much stuff I've accumulated over the years, but sorting through it all is exhausting. Derek is a huge help, lifting boxes and offering moral support when I feel overwhelmed.

"Take a break, Delilah," he says. "You've been on your feet all day."

"I'm fine," I insist, but the look he gives me says he's not buying it.

"Sit down for a few minutes. I'll finish packing these boxes."

I reluctantly do what he says, sinking onto the couch with a sigh. As I rest, I feel Little Boba moving inside me, reminding me why we're doing all this. This move isn't just about me and Derek—it's about creating a safe, loving home for my baby.

After a short rest, we head to the baby store. The moment we walk in, I'm overwhelmed by the sheer amount of baby gear. Cribs, strollers, car seats, toys—there's so much to choose from. Derek and I wander through the aisles, picking out the essentials and debating over the cutest items.

"What do you think of this crib?" Derek asks, pointing to a sleek, modern black circular design.

"It's nice, but I was thinking something more traditional," I reply, eyeing a dark oak wooden crib.

"I can see that," he says thoughtfully. "What about a rocking chair?"

"It's perfect," I say, sitting down and gently rocking back and forth. "I can already picture myself here, rocking Little Boba to sleep."

We continue shopping, filling our cart with baby clothes, blankets, and other necessities. By the time we leave the store, I'm exhausted but happy. We're one step closer to being ready for the baby's arrival.

We head straight to the condo, unload our haul, and start setting up the nursery. It's hard work, but also incredibly rewarding. With each piece of furniture we assemble, the room transforms from an empty space into a cozy, welcoming nursery.

"This is going to be perfect." I stand in the middle of the room, taking it all in.

"It really is," Derek agrees, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "We're going to make a great team."