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Her husband had divorced her and had married his longtime mistress as soon as the divorce was final, something his children supported, which I found odd until they explained that she had been his high school sweetheart and the woman he was meant to marry before their mother told a lie that tore his life apart.
My only conclusion after hearing the things they had to say and comparing it to my own dealings with Cecile over the years is that she hates women. I knew she loved Dan or had some kind of twisted obsession with him, as her daughters claim, but I didn’t know the extent of her horrendous actions.
Nevertheless, though we keep in touch here and there, they are not part of my life. I choose to leave it all behind and look forward to the bright future I see with my husband and the family we’ve built.
Evelyn and Millie and their husbands and Millie’s kids, as well as Henry and his family, have become part of that family as well, and we’re at each other’s places at least once a week. The bakery has now become three, and our online sales are outpacing everything else because my husband has talked my grandmother into making cakes and other pastries with his added product, which seems to be a big hit.
My eighty-year-old grandmother provides most of the marijuana-laced sweets for half of the damn country online. I always know when the two of them have been testing a new recipe because she gets the giggles, and he just sits there looking at her admiringly and encouraging her in her mess.
That’s why I thought I could get away with lying in the hammock when I was forbidden from getting in it again by him because this morning, the two of them were experimenting with my lemon meringue cupcakes made with weed-infused something or another, and it had knocked him on his butt.
I got the kids out of the house to give their nannies a break because I know there’s only so much a body can take, and even though they assure me they can handle it, I can’t imagine finding reptiles in your bed on any given day is a good thing.
My daughter, I am sure, is the one responsible, but her brothers would go to their deaths keeping their mouths closed, and that little miss always looks the picture of innocence when confronted, to the point where her victims end up defending her.
I think they do it because they know that her father would lose his mind if they said anything against her; something I told him would come back to bite him in the ass when she’s older because he spoils her too much.
Everyone spoils her. She’s the only girl in a sea of boys, and even her older cousins protect her from everything. I was worried there for a while that the boys would feel left out, though everyone loves and adores them as well, but when it comes to their sister, they’re the worst.
So now, it’s a matter of them against everyone else. I thought their younger brother might be left out since he’s so different from them, but even as kids, they know to include him, though more often than not, he prefers to stay with me instead of digging up worms and who knows what else in the garden.
The parrot Joy had bought and trained could be heard calling from his home in the aviary on the other side of the garden, and I bit back my laughter at the look on my husband’s face. He always looks murderous when the poor bird starts mocking him with the sounds of thunder whenever he gets upset about something. I think it’s cute.
“Okay, you caught me.” I popped another grape in my mouth and kept reading my book to downplay the fact that I knew I was in for it. “Why don’t you take Raiden inside? My foot is getting tired.”
As distractions went, it wasn’t the best, but I knew if I told him something was wrong with me, no matter how small, it would take his mind off of everything else. He helped me out of the hammock, then lifted the baby from the swing, and the six of us headed into the house, the kids laughing and playing around the two of us as my husband held our youngest in one arm while protecting me from who knows what with the other.
* * *
This is my favorite time.When it’s late at night, and the house is still, sitting out on the roof balcony on my favorite lounger with my husband behind me, holding my pregnant tummy as we look at the stars.
Tonight though, we were revisiting a memory from our past as I rode him in the moonlight. No matter how often we make love, and it’s a lot, especially in my last trimester when my hormones seem to go haywire, I still get butterflies.
The look in his eyes when we’re joined together like this always makes me feel like the most desirable woman in the world. That look and the way he shows his love for me are the only guarantees I need that he would never betray me.
I haven’t had that fear, not once, with him, which is funny because he’s more of a catch than my ex ever was, not to mention I see the way women throw themselves at him whether I’m there or not, and the way he gets absolutely furious when they do.
All in all, my life has made a complete one-eighty in ways that I could never have imagined. Instead of the cold dead womb, Cecile accused me of having, I’m now the mother of four with two more on the way and many more to come if I have anything to say about it.
Thunder claims that the twins are the last, but he said that after Raiden was born, and here we are. I’m addicted to carrying his babies because of the way he spoils me when I’m with child. It’s the kind of high that even the product that made him a billionaire would never reach.
Now I looked down at him as he cupped the sides of my pregnant belly with his hands, a smile on his face as he surged up into me. I’m so happy he found me.
