I was starting to think my husband had a secret desire to drive insane.
Every morning began with the sa argunt or rather, the sa overly sweet interrogation disguised as concern. It was a great way to rile up.
"Did you eat well last night?"
"Did you drink enough water?"
"Are you sure that chair’s comfortable?"
And the one that made want to scream, "Should you really be walking that much, baby?"
I huffed and puffed in between answers but he never seed to get the ssage. I was six months pregnant, not made of glass for goodness sake! But Jace Romano had apparently decided that my pregnancy was a high-risk international mission requiring twenty-four-hour surveillance. I was sick of it.
This morning was no different. I was standing in the kitchen, wearing one of his oversized shirts that barely fit over my growing bump, trying to make pancakes before he ca downstairs. I knew if he saw holding a pan, he’d confiscate it like it was a weapon. The chef was yet to co in for the day, and honestly I didn’t want to wait when I could handle it myself.
But of course, he appeared right on cue. He was barefoot, grey sweatpants, sleepy-eyed, and already suspicious.
"Mira," he said in that low, warning tone that made my na sound too good. "What did we say about you cooking?"
I rolled my eyes, flipping the pancake. "We said you’d stop hovering over like I’m carrying a ticking ti bomb. And yet, here you are."
He crossed the kitchen in three long strides and plucked the spatula right out of my hand. "You shouldn’t be standing this long."
"Jace—" I was already protesting but he cut off.
"I’m serious." He turned off the stove like a man saving the world from disaster. "You should be resting."
"I’ve been resting for hours. You’re acting like I’m about to deliver a baby in the kitchen." I laughed.
His eyes softened but didn’t back down. "If you did, at least I’d be right here."
I stared at him, torn between laughing and throwing the spatula at him. "You’re impossible."
"And you love ," he said smoothly, setting the plate aside and helping to the nearest chair like I was ninety.
"I tolerate you," I muttered, even as I leaned into him.
He bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You tolerate because I make sure you don’t fall on your face."
I tried to hide my smile but failed miserably. "You really need a hobby, Jace."
"I have one," he said, placing his hand gently over my bump. His voice dropped. "You and this little troublemaker."
The warmth of his palm seeped into my skin, and for a second, the irritation lted away. He was gentle now, eyes soft with that look that always made forget what I was supposed to be mad about.
"She kicked again last night," I whispered.
Yes, our gender reveal party was a few weeks back and we found out we’re having a girl. I had never seen Jace so happy. Even though a part of worried he would be disappointed because I was yet to give him a male heir.
"She did?"
His question cut through my thoughts.
I nodded. "Mhm. While you were in the shower."
I dozed off shortly after so I wasn’t able to tell him about it until now.
"Traitor." His lips curved. "I’m missing all the good parts."
"You’ll survive."
He crouched down in front of , resting his chin lightly against my knees as he stared at my belly like it held the universe. "She’s gonna have your smile. I just know it."
"And your stubbornness," I teased.
His grin widened. "That’s how we’ll know she’s ours."
The baby kicked again right then. It was just a small flutter and his entire face changed
. I saw it then. It was awe. Pure, unfiltered awe. It reminded of the first ti he’d seen in my wedding dress; that sa reverent silence, like he didn’t deserve what he was looking at.
"She’s going to be a very active girl,," he murmured, voice low.
"She’s you," I said softly.
He looked up at , and for a heartbeat, it felt like ti paused. That was the thing about Jace. Even after everything, the chaos, the violence, the scars we’d both carried he still looked at like I was the calm that saved him.
And maybe, in so strange way, I was.
"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, blinking rapidly too.
I blinked, titling my head in what he now knew as my warning stare. "Why else would I be downstairs so early in the morning, Jace?"
"Apologies ma’am. I’ll take that as my permission to flip more pancakes in the pan."
"Jace—"
He leaned in, cutting off with a kiss that left no room for protest. It was soft, teasing, but deep enough that I forgot what we were even talking about. When he finally pulled away, his smirk said it all. "You were saying?"
I sighed. "You win."
"Always." He gave a cheeky grin.
He got up, picked up the pan, and began humming while he cooked. My pregnancy may have taught him a thing or two about kitchen duties because I got cravings at odd hours and the chef couldn’t always be available. Of course he wouldn’t let cook either as the doting husband he was.
I watched him move around the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, hair a little ssy, that faint scar near his temple catching the light. This was the sa man who once ordered hits, who made enemies tremble, now fussing over pancake batter like it was a matter of national security. And just like that, the morning felt brighter.
How did we get here? I wondered.
So days it still amazed that this was our life now peace, laughter, love. The absence of fear.
He turned to with a plate a few minutes later. "Your highness, breakfast is served."
"Pancakes with extra strawberries?" I arched a brow.
"Of course."
"And syrup?"
He narrowed his eyes. "You know the doctor said—"
"Jace." I pouted.
He sighed. "Fine. A little."
I smiled in victory and took a bite. "Perfect."
He sat beside , watching eat like it was his favorite movie. "You know, if I didn’t love you so much, I’d be jealous of how much attention you’re giving that pancake."
"Don’t be dramatic." I grinned. "It’s just food."
"It’s my food. Which makes it special. You love food."
I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my fork.
He loved that sound. I could tell his expression softened instantly. "You should laugh like that more often," he murmured.
I reached for his hand, fingers brushing over his knuckles. "Then stop giving reasons to argue."
He smiled. "Deal."
We sat like that for a while, just eating and talking about little things — baby nas (he still wanted sothing classic, I still wanted sothing Italian), nursery colors, Donna’s endless stream of advice over video calls.
And for a brief mont, I realized how simple happiness could be. Not loud or perfect, just steady.
Jace’s POV
If soone had told years ago that my mornings would look like this — my wife glowing, my kitchen slling like pancakes with actually making them, my biggest worry being whether she’s eating enough... I’d definitely have called them insane.
But here we were.
Mira was six months pregnant, and sohow, I was more terrified now than I’d ever been facing a gun.
She caught staring. "What?"
"Nothing," I said softly. "Just wondering how sothing so small can terrify so much."
She raised a brow. "You? Terrified?"
"Completely." I leaned in, resting my forehead against hers. "You and her... you’re everything that could break ."
Her smile faded into sothing softer. "You’re not going to break."
I wanted to believe that. But a part of still saw blood when I closed my eyes with ghosts of old sins that whispered I didn’t deserve this peace.
Still, when I looked at her, all that noise quieted.
"I think she’s going to look like you," I said, placing a hand on her bump again.
"And I think you’re going to be the kind of father you never had."
That hit harder than I expected.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and kissed her knuckles gently. "If she gets even half your heart, she’ll be unstoppable."
She smiled. "Then we’ll be fine."
I nodded, watching her for a long mont, morizing the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the faint curve of her full lips, the quiet contentnt that had replaced all the fear we used to carry.
I didn’t know what the future would look like but for the first ti in a long ti, I really wanted to find out.
Because it was ours now.
And it started here.
In our kitchen.
With pancakes and laughter and a love I never thought I’d deserve.
Reviews
All reviews (0)