Love Expectations (Season 1 of Nata and Phillip's Romance) ✔️

32. 'Don't tell me I didn't warn you'

Phillip

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TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK IS LABLED MATURE NOT ONLY FOR THE SEX CONTENT, BUT FOR SOME DIFFICULT TOPICS.

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THIS CHAPTER TOUCHES ON THE TOPIC OF DEATH OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN AND CAN BE TRIGGERING TO SOME. NOTHING IS GRAPHICALLY DESCRIBED BUT IS HEAVILY ALLUDED TO.

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Nata sets one hand on the button of her slacks. "Potential future family," she says, her eyes on the sky behind the window that's clearing into a creamcicle shade of almost morning.

I put my hand on top of hers. "Did you tell your parents that we're trying?"

"No." She chews on her lip.

I pull her into me until her back rests against my chest. Greeting the sunrise with someone you care for sounds like a romantic notion. When I think of the scenario, I imagine a beach in Maui or a morning hike to the top of the mountain. But standing in my kitchen with Nata in my arms, the sunrise is even more meaningful. This is another Polaroid of memories that I'd keep in my head forever. Full of hope. Planning to have a family. Parents. I touch her temple with my chin. "What are they like?"

"Who?" She tilts her head up to meet my gaze.

"Your parents. Are they like you?"

Her eyelashes flutter. "Dad is. He's a scientist. Mom is now a photographer. She makes coffee books based on her travels." Nata brings the coffee to her mouth but doesn't drink. "They can be poster children for a love-hate relationship." The sentence comes out on an exhale, like a confession she didn't intend to make.

"Your parents hate each other?" I encircle Nata's waist and bring her flush with me.

"Yes and no. It's hard to tell from the outside. I think they got through phases in life when hate was the dominant emotion. Then they were madly in love." She takes the sip and licks a spot of foam off her upper lip. "They've been married and divorced three times."

That's a lot for any child. I hug her tighter to me. "Getting used to stepparents must've been hard for you."

She chuckles, as if I said something funny. She removes my hand from around her and steps aside. She looks straight into my eyes. "Married and divorced three times to each other."

To each other? The gears in my head are not as oiled at this time of the morning as they are during regular daylight hours. My eyebrows crawl up my forehead. "How does that work exactly?"

She rubs the middle of her forehead and looks away. "It's a long story."

I hold her by her elbow and lower my brow to meet her gaze. "I would rather be here listening to your story than anywhere else." If she cracks the door open even an inch and I can learn more about her, I'm here for it.

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you." Nata frees her arm from my grasp, wraps both hands around her coffee cup, and leaves through the sliding glass door to my deck. "First, Mom got pregnant with me at twenty-one." I silently follow, as my heart swells in my chest. My mom was about the same age when she had me.

Nata takes a sip of her coffee and walks down the steps to the grassy patch that separates the pool and the deck. "Dad was ten years older. They got married because it's what you were supposed to do."

Not unlike my parents. But I know they loved each other. Deeply. They didn't get married just because of me. Knowing she was the only reason for the marriage must be a hard burden for her to carry. I want to hug her again, but I put my hands in the pockets of my pajama pants, clench my jaw, and pour my energy into listening to her.