Page 93 of Where She Belongs
She nods, her smile turns teasing. “Besides, someone put an awful lot of work into those built-in bookshelves. It would be a shame not to fill them properly.”
“I did design them specifically for your medical journals.”
“I noticed.” She traces patterns on my chest, a habit she’s developed when she’s thinking. “And that kitchen island with space for cookie-baking...”
“And homework,” I add softly.
Her breath catches. “Gabe...”
“I’ve been thinking.” I take her hands in mine. “About our future. About everything we want—personally and professionally. And I realized something.”
“What’s that?”
I gesture to our surroundings—the garden where she wants to grow some of the vegetables she loves to add to her cooking (moringa, chayote, calamansi), the house I’ve been slowly renovating with our future in mind, the community that’s embraced her as one of their own. “This could be our home base. Your condo could be our Albuquerque place for the days you need to be there. And the satellite clinic...” I pull her closer. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s perfect.”
Through the window, I can hear the twins laughing with their parents, the sounds of our friends and family enjoying a Sunday afternoon.
“Welcome home, mi amor,” I whisper against her hair.
Her hands cover mine where they rest on her stomach. “I already was.”
“Besides,” she adds, turning in my arms with that smile that still makes my heart skip, “your house needs a woman’s touch. Starting with this paint color.”
“What’s wrong with the paint?”
“Gabe, honey, it’s builder’s beige. Even Dax winces when he visits.”
I laugh, remembering Dax’s not-so-subtle hints about helping us redesign the space. “You’re just trying to give your favorite woodworker an excuse to install more custom cabinets.”
“Maybe.” She walks to the window, surveying the garden where our family’s still gathered. “Though we might need them, especially if...”
“If?”
She bites her lip, suddenly looking uncertain. “If we’re serious about starting a family.”
The world stops for a moment. Except for the night we spent in Gareth’s guest house, we’ve since only talked about it in abstract terms. But this feels different. It feels real.
“Are we?” I ask carefully, moving to stand beside her. “Serious about it?”
“I had my IUD removed last week,” she says quietly. “I know we should have discussed it first, but with my age, the chances of conceiving naturally are?—”
I cut her off with a kiss, pouring everything I feel into it. She’s always been worried about whether she can still have kids, reminding me that she could be a grandmother soon, but if she wants kids, I’m not going to stop her. I want them just as much as she does.
When we break apart, she looks dazed. “So... you’re okay with this?”
“Okay with it?” I can’t stop smiling. “Andie, I’ve been researching the best preschools in Taos for months. I even talked to Harlow about her OB recommendations.”
Her eyes widen. “You have?”
“Why do you think I added that mudroom? And the kid-height sinks in the guest bathroom?” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want everything with you, Andrea Martin. The practice, the family, the life we’re building. All of it.”
Tears spill over. “Even if it takes time? Even if we’ll need... help?”
“Even then.” I wipe away her tears with my thumbs. “Though based on this morning’s activities, I’d say we’re giving it our best shot.”
She smacks my chest, laughing. “Gabe!”
