And I am so goddamn in love I’d die if she ever left me.
She’s still looking at me, waiting for an answer. I could go for sweet and I could go for lewd. Instead I’ll go for a kiss. Leaning down, I tug a hair behind her ear, wrap my hand around her jaw and kiss her, hard.
Emma responds easily, wrapping her lips around mine and lets her tongue glide across mine, caressing, loving, tempting—
Clink, Clink, Clink, Clink
Our moment is disrupted by the clanging of spoons on glasses as is customary at weddings when the bride and groom kiss. Emma laughs and buries her head into my chest. In return, I wrap my arm around her and hold her into me, laughing myself at the joy of the moment.
“Get a room!” Leah chants from the other side of the room, her swollen belly keeping her from drinking the limoncello.
“Oh, hush, you!” Pam play slaps her daughter.
“You can’t hit a pregnant woman!” Leah chides and rubs her arm as if she was just beaten. She turns to Adam for comfort. “Honey, tell her she has to be nice to me. I’m carrying her grandchild.”
Adam just shakes his head. “I won’t let anyone be anything but perfect towards you, baby. I got you.” He kisses his wife and rubs her stomach. They’re expecting a little boy in a few months. His name will be Matthew. No one was surprised to hear that.
Looking around the room, I feel at peace. The open-air restaurant overlooks the Mediterranean Sea, overlooks the very spot where Emma nearly drowned and was recused by Devon. If it weren’t for her inability to trust strangers with her belongings I never would have met her. She is still crazy about her belongings. She bought a white fanny pack to go with her wedding dress. Leah wouldn’t allow it.
Emma leans her head into my side and her nose nuzzles the skin of my neck. I lean down into her. “Are you sniffing me?”
“Yes.” She says, her lips skimming my ear. “You smell of sea and soap. It brings back beautiful memories.”
When I proposed to Emma, I knew there was only one place in the world we would be married: on the island of Capri. As I don’t have any family and no one other than Devon I’d care to invite, Emma and I opted to keep it small. So we flew eight of our closest friends and family to Italy to share this moment with us.
Seated at a rectangular table are Emma’s parents, her grandmother, Leah and Adam and Devon. Lisa couldn’t leave the kids but Crystal and Mattie are here. They offered to pay their own way but I wouldn’t allow it. They have both been incredible friends to Emma, especially during our weeks apart.
On the table in front of each guest is a vase of yellow roses with red tips, the same ones I gave her time and time again portraying one true meaning: Falling in love.
And I fall, every day, further and further every day.
A warm, smooth hand, tugs at mine. I look over at Emma who is pulling me toward the veranda. I follow her, away from our guests to a secluded spot, feeling as if the two of us are the only people on earth.
She is smiling at me, looking like the cat that ate the canary. I bow my head and squint at her, wondering what my little minx is up to.
“I have a secret to tell you.” Her brow rises up in a dare.
“What kind of secret?” I ask, tempting her to tell me.
Her teeth skim her lip and I swear if we didn’t have another hour left of this dinner I’d throw her over my shoulder and carry her up to our room.
“You have to promise you won’t tell a soul. At least not for another four weeks.” The full pout of her lips spread. She is obviously quote excited about her secret.
“That’s a very specific amount of time. Why can’t I tell anyone for four weeks?”
“Because I can’t let my father know I was pregnant at my wedding.”
As if all the air in my body has been sucked out of me, I fight to speak but there are no words.
A baby. We’re going to have a baby.
I am going to be a father.