The beginning of forever

22 - Beautiful reality

Book 2: So, this is Forever

22 – Beautiful reality

Becky's POV

In the gentle passage of weeks, the notion of expanding our family lingered, like a tender whisper, in the quiet corners of our lives. While I may be mistaken, It seemed as though she was purposefully avoiding me to sidestep the looming conversation about expanding our family.

I value her honesty in expressing reservations about expanding our family, recognizing that her concerns stem from a deep love for me and is afraid of losing me in the process of giving birth. Seeing her bury herself in work and unconsciously creating a gap between us makes me wonder if wanting another child is pushing her away. The uncertainty tugged at the edges of my heart, and I'm not sure what to do, and I'm starting to think maybe it's time to let go of the idea.

As I ponder these thoughts, I find myself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for my wife. It's a Saturday morning, and she's already at her desk, surrounded by a stack of documents that demand her attention. The familiar aroma of coffee fills the air as I whisk eggs and toast bread, contemplating the complexities of our situation.

I carry the plate to her office in the mansion, the clinking of cutlery against ceramic signaling my arrival. She looks up from her papers, offering a weary smile. I place the breakfast beside her and, without uttering a word, sit down nearby.

The weight of our unspoken concerns hovers between us. I'm torn between the desire for another child and the fear of losing the connection we've built. Her dedication to work is evident, a shield against the emotions we've left unaddressed.

As she sifts through the documents, I wrestle with the idea of broaching the subject or letting the silence persist. The room feels heavy with unspoken words, and I'm unsure of how to navigate the delicate terrain of our shared uncertainties.

In the quiet of the morning, the clatter of keyboards and the rustling of papers serve as a backdrop to the internal dialogue playing out in my mind. The breakfast, intended as a gesture of care, sits untouched as we both grapple with the uncharted territory ahead.

"Hey, have some breakfast first, babe," I gently suggest, trying to break the silence that has settled between us. I offer a reassuring smile, hoping to convey both understanding and support. The plate of eggs and toast sits patiently beside her, a small oasis in the midst of the paperwork that demands her attention.

She looks up, meeting my gaze with a mixture of gratitude and fatigue. With a nod, she sets aside the documents and takes a tentative bite. The simple act of nourishing herself becomes a momentary respite from the weight of our unspoken concerns.

As she eats, I choose to respect the quietude, understanding that sometimes words are not the immediate solution. Instead, I focus on the shared warmth of the breakfast table, hoping that this small gesture can bridge the gap between us, if only for a moment. The clatter of keyboards subsides, replaced by the comforting rhythm of utensils against plates, creating a subtle backdrop to the intricate dance of emotions that lingers in the room.

"It's the weekend, and I was really hoping we could spend some quality time together with Zea. She's been missing you, and honestly, so have I," I express to Freen, breaking the tension with a mix of sincerity and vulnerability. I glance at our daughter's photo on the desk, a visual reminder of the joy she brings to our lives.

"I would love to, babe," she responds, pausing her meal and looking at me with a mixture of regret and determination. "But I have to finish this to prepare for next week," she adds, a sense of responsibility evident in her voice.

I nod, attempting to conceal my disappointment, and inquire, "What's with next week, baby?"

"Oh! I forgot to mention," she says, rising from her seat and heading towards me. "I'll be heading to Minnesota for about a week or moreto finalize another partnership."