Fulfillment(130)
Bryce had said he was going to be out for an hour or so, so I decided rather than waste a beautiful day, I would go for a walk along the main street.
The streets of Rome were beautiful and full of character, the buildings graced with tradition and the cobblestone roads full of charm. I was deliriously happy as I skipped along the path. Did I just skip? Oh my God, I think I just actually skipped.
I’d stopped myself momentarily, questioning my sanity when I noticed I was in front of a pharmacy. My mind went straight to the strong possibility that I could be pregnant, but did I want to find out now...today? I stared at the shop front and bit down on my thumb nail, a smile blossoming across my face. Yes, I did want to find out today, because even if the test were to be negative, nothing could possibly ruin my happy spirits.
I pushed open the door and went inside.
***
Half an hour later I was back in the hotel suite, a pregnancy test in my hand. I’d peed on the stick, enclosed it in the plastic cap then turned the results window down in my hand—not looking at the final outcome. I didn’t want to do it alone; I wanted Bryce here with me. The problem with that idea was that my hand had started to cramp up. Shit! How do I let go without seeing? I could close my eyes. No, I might drop it, then what?
Just as I was about to make the decision to continue to grip or let go, and probably resembling a fretful person holding a ticking time bomb, Bryce walked through the door.
He strode right up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Longest fucking two hours of my life.” He took my head in his hands and kissed me with intention.
I didn’t hug him back. Instead, I held my arms out stretched as if the pregnancy test contained a highly infectious disease.
“What’s wrong, Hunny?” he asked, concern on his handsome face. He looked at my enclosed hand. “What’s that?”
“A pregnancy test,” I blurted out.
He was stone-faced not knowing whether to smile or frown, I knew how he felt.
“Are you—?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t looked. I was waiting for you to come back. I’m over a week late.”
“Fuck! Why didn’t you ring me?” He grasped my hand and moved it so that it rested in between our two bodies.
I slowly began to loosen my fingers.
“Wait!” he said, staring down at my hand.
I froze.
He lifted his gaze to mine. “If it’s negative, that’s fine. We can keep trying.”
I lifted my other hand to touch his obviously anxious face. “I know, my love. If it’s negative we’ll keep trying and trying until it’s positive.” I placed a soft, calming kiss on his lips. “Are you ready?”
He nodded, and we both looked down as I opened my hand.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
A rush of elation rolled through me. “It means we are having another baby.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The rest of our time in Rome was kind of surreal. After the pregnancy test revealed two pink lines, we had stared at it for minutes, rotating it and making sure it wasn’t playing a cruel trick on us. When we were satisfied that it wasn’t, we both hugged each other, kissed each other, and wiped away each other’s happy tears. Then, my Mr. Overprotective-Over domineering-Arse Clark returned, marching us both back to the pharmacy to get some folic acid and pregnancy vitamins.
Satisfied that I was happy and healthy, he’d finally allowed us to continue our day and finish our sightseeing plans by walking to the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain, and the Villa Borghese Gardens. We’d then done a little shopping on our way back to the hotel and stocked up on some souvenirs, not forgetting my promise of picking up a real Ferrari for Nate. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a rude piece of cutlery for Tash—Italy had no crude looking monuments.
***
We departed Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport later that night, basically sleeping the entire way before waking up during our stopover in Hong Kong. Bryce had gone back to gently caressing my stomach, and I adored that paternal side of him that just naturally took over.
“So when do you want to get married?” I asked him as we lay side by side in the luxurious queen bed on the private jet, only hours from landing in Melbourne.
“When are you officially divorced?”
“In a few weeks’ time.”
“Well...in a few weeks’ time then,” Bryce answered, carefree and unconcerned.
“Can we wait till after the baby is born?”
He rolled back to get a better look at my face and before he could object I explained.
“It’s going to be a few weeks before the divorce is final, then we have to submit the marriage application and that takes at least three months—”