Page 54 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
Epilogue - Isabelle
Two and a Half Months Later onThanksgiving
I’m close to five months pregnant. I’mhuge.
Knox and I are over at my Mom and Dad’s place for Thanksgiving weekend. I dragged him here and joked that he was my pawn this time—payback from Independence Dayweekend.
He doesn’t mind the reference too much anymore. His grandfather passed away about a month ago. Right after it happened, Knox was so broken up, and deeply sensitive about a lot of things. From the outside looking in, some would think that losing his grandfather was heartbreaking, another blow to his loss and grief. But from where I was standing, the loss healed a part ofKnox.
Nearthe end, when Knox and I stood at his grandfather’s side, the sweet old man took the last of his strength, reached out to us both, and joined Knox’s and my hands together. I didn’t understand what he whispered, but Knox explained later that his last wish was for us to hold on to each other’s hand, right to the very end. I’ve never heard of a sweeter, kinder lastwish.
For a while afterhis passing, Knox would become silent and distant a lot. But one thing made him shake out of his mood. Seeing me. And the reminder that there’s three of us now in the equation. Now, with some time passed and my growing belly, he thinks of that weekend morefondly.
The four of us sit at the dinner table, three of them drinking coffee, and I’m sipping on water after having had dessert. Momand Dad are on one side of the large mahogany table, Knox and I on the other. The turkey was a little overdone, but overall, we had a lovelymeal.
I’m bombarded by the usual question about my pregnancy, my eating habits, on whether I need help with the nursery, and of course, Dad brings up the question of whether his grandbaby will be born to married parents. Marriage makes me uneasy. It’sonly been a few months since Knox and I patched things up. We need time to get used to the idea. Heck, we need time to adjust to the fact that in less than five months, we’re going to beparents.
But a few things between us are rocksolid.
We’reclose.
We’re open andhonest.
We’re insanely attracted to eachother.
The L word has not come up, but I know he lovesme and his unborn child deeply. His devotion to us is as clear as day, and although he’s not a big talker, he makes it his mission to show that to me every chance he gets. And shutting me out, it’s off the table. After teasing him that both Bethany and I will show up unannounced on his ass if he ever does that again, he promised it’s a moot point now. So far, he’s been true to his word, and I preferto focus on the next ten years, not thepast.
After dinner, we take a walk around the block to get some air. I enjoy the crisp cool late autumn. It’s one of my favorite times of year, and beats carrying a baby during the heat ofsummer.
Taking a deep, long inhale, I walk beside him, and smile when he puts an arm around my waist, cradling the side of my belly protectively with hiswidened palm, and takes my gloved hand with theother.
I rest my head on his shoulder and enjoy the comfortable silence betweenus.
“When’s your next ultrasound?” heasks.
“In a few weeks. Want to joinme?”
“I’d like that. Do you plan to ask if the kid is a girl orboy?”
“I hadn’t thought of it, but yes, that’s fine with me. It’d be nice to shop for more thanjust neutral yellows and greens andwhite.”
“Good. If it’s a boy, I’d like his first or middle name to be Morris,” he says, and the statement causes my eyes to wellup.
“That’d be lovely. And if it’s agirl?”
“Let me think on that. Maybe my mother’s name can be somewhere inthere.”
“I like the name Anne. It’s timeless, straightforward, and has a softness toit.”
“Sounds just like mymom.”
“About what your father mentioned...” he starts and trailsoff.
“Don’t even spend a minute thinking about what he said,” I told him. “However we move ahead, I want our decisions to be yours and mine, on our timelines and no one else’s. I know they mean well, but at the end of the day, it’s our lives. Our baby won’t give a damn about whether we havea piece of paper making what we have legitimate. He or she will care about how much love we give him, how we care for him, and how we treat each other. Don’t youthink?”
“You’re right on all points,but...”
“Butwhat?”
