Page 101 of Where We Call Home

A laugh rumbled in my chest. “It does take a special kind of person to be interested in Rob’s endless trivia.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” my mom teased. “I’ve been listening to it for nearly two decades.”

I didn’t need to say it aloud for my mom to know. I was in love with Theo—not falling, not inching closer. I’d already fallen, head over heels, and hit the ground hard.

The next step was clear. Close the chapter on my past and give Theo the love she deserved, the love I was finally ready to give.

Thirty-Six

Theo is 32 weeks pregnant

Baby is the size of a cantaloupe

“Alright, what am I making for dinner?” I called to Theo, who was sprawled on the couch, feet propped up, scrolling aimlessly on her phone.

I’d come home from work not long ago to find her fast asleep, drool pooling on my throw pillow while some old true-crime show droned on about a missing murder weapon from twenty years ago. Now she was awake, but something felt... off. Theo wasn’t one to zone out on her phone.

Her responses were minimal, and there was a pained expression etched onto her face that she couldn’t quite hide.

The rain outside began to hit the window, we were supposed to be getting a pretty nasty storm tonight.

From the living room, a faint groan answered my question, followed by the soft rustle of fabric as she shifted.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I asked, walking around the couch, the kitchen towel slung over my shoulder.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her forearm draped lazily over her eyes, the other hand resting protectively on her belly. “I’m just... not very hungry.”

Her tone told me something else was going on. “Can I do anything?” I asked, gently taking her arm and nudging it away from her face. She cracked one eye open, gave me a tired look, and then closed it again.

“Maybe... chocolate milk?” she finally murmured, holding out her hands.

I helped her up, feeling the weight of her leaning into me as she stood. She waddled toward the kitchen, one hand on her lower back. She barely made it to the island before collapsing onto one of the stools with a groan.

“Chocolate milk it is,” I said, heading to the fridge.

“Wait, what about strawberry instead?”

I smirked, grabbing both the chocolate and strawberry powders from the cabinet. Setting them on the counter, I turned to face her, crossing my arms. “Your call, but you seem conflicted.”

Theo stared at the options, her brow furrowing. “No... chocolate,” she decided, then hesitated, her lips twitching in indecision.

I waited.

“Ugh!” She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “I don’t know what I want!”

Laughing, I grabbed both containers and walked toward her. Kneeling in front, I gently turned her stool to face me. Placing my ear against her belly, I held up the chocolate powder.

“What are you doing?” Theo asked, laughing despite her mood as her fingers found their way into my hair.

“Letting the baby decide,” I said matter-of-factly. “Alright, little girl, which one is it?”

I switched to holding up the strawberry powder, and right on cue, the baby gave a solid kick.

“That doesn’t actually work!” Theo giggled, shaking her head, though the smile on her face was worth every second of my theatrics.

“Apparently, it does,” I teased, standing up with mock triumph. “She wants strawberry, but you want chocolate. How about I make both?”

Theo bit her lip, nodding. “That works.”

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