Page 172 of Unspoken Words
Ellie
“Ican’t believe you organiseda surprise wedding.”
Connor moved a tendril of hair to the side of my face and kissed the tip of my nose. “You wanted to get married, so we got married.”
I shuffled onto my side, the hospital bed creaking with my movement, and snuggled into his warm chest, the scent of his woodsy aftershave igniting my senses. He was still in his suit pants and white shirt, and I hadn’t yet removed my dress.
“Wait a minute,” I said, playfully narrowing my eyes at him. “We got married ‘causeIwanted to?”
“No. We got married becauseIwanted to. The fact that you did, too, was a bonus.”
I giggled. “Wow! So selfish.”
My husband lifted my hand, both of us inspecting the yellow gold and diamond wedding band for probably the hundredth time.
“Married and preggers at age twenty-four, who’d have thought, huh?”
He kissed my knuckles. “Me.”
Connor’s answer was very matter-of-fact, so I whacked his chest then closed my eyes. Our eventful day had taken its toll, and I was incredibly exhausted and sore.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, as he closed his hand over mine and laid it upon his chest.
“Fine. Just resting my eyes.”
He chuckled and moments later whispered, “You’re beautiful when you rest, Mrs Bourke.”
“Shh.”
“You’re beautiful when you ‘shh’, Mrs Bourke.”
“And you’re noisy when I’m shh-ing and resting, Mr Bourke.”
I felt him shuffle down the bed until his hand came to rest on my hip. “Fine. I’ll talk to our girl instead.”
“She’s asleep.”
“No, she’s not.”
I felt the tip of his nose nuzzle my tummy.
“Psst, baby girl,” he whispered. “It won’t be long till you come out of there and meet us, so I just want you to be prepared for Mummy’s beauty when you first see her. She’s very,very,beautiful. But it’s okay, because you’re gonna be just as beautiful. I promise.”
Christina moved and my tummy bulged.
“See? She’s awake and listening to her dad.”
I smiled but kept my eyes closed—she was definitely listening to her dad. I also made a mental note to add this to her notebook. I wanted her to know that her father spoke to her even before she saw the light of day, and that his words were never unspoken when it came to her.
“Mummy doesn’t know this,” he continued, “but I finished my song last night. The one I wrote for you both.”
I opened one eye and peeked down. “You did?”
He ignored me and kept talking to Christina. “It’s called ‘My Girls’. Wanna hear it?”
“She said, Yes,” I blurted.
“Shush. You’re supposed to be resting.”
