“Yes,” Delinda says with a nod. “I will only ever live in castles.”
I giggle at her pronouncement but figure she is probably right.
“I like the sun,” she says. “It is different to the Fae Kingdoms.”
“Yes, it is one of the most amazing things, and the moon and stars. Wait until tonight and you will see just how magickal Earth can be too,” I say.
“When?” she asks, jumping up and down. “I want to see it now!”
“Later on,” I say, scooping her up as we descend the stairs. “It will be worth the wait, I promise.”
We find Marguerite in the kitchen, already whipping up some lunch for Delinda, and I leave her in capable hands to go and find CK. He has been oddly absent. I have a feeling I know where to find him, so I pad back up the stairs in my bare feet and along the hallway to the right wing. I lean against the doorway and cross my arms as I watch him staring out of the window of the nursery.
“Thought I might find you in here,” I say softly.
He turns to me with that heavenly smile that makes my knees weak. “I know this is going to be a stupid question, but do you know how much longer?” he asks.
“No, sorry,” I say with a shake of my head.
“I hope it’s soon,” he says, standing up and throwing the teddy he was holding, no cuddling, back into the crib.
“Me too,” I say and watch in amazement as he drops to his knees in front of me. “I thought you didn’t kneel for anyone,” I add lightly, stroking his face.
“Hm,” he says with a stern look that isn’t all that intimidating. “This is my princess, Aefre. I worship her.” He places a kiss on my bump, and I drop to my knees too so that I can kiss his lips. “She is all that matters now, she is everything,” he says. “My life will be completely
devoted to our child now.”
Oh?
Shit!
I peer closely at him and for once his face isn’t that hard to read. He really means that, and if I understand him correctly, that also means that I am not the center of his universe anymore. That sounds awfully vain when I think it, but it’s true. He has pulled back his hold on me so his undivided attention can go to our daughter. I love him for it, but it also makes me a little nervous. I know firsthand how controlling and obsessive he can be. I hope that he doesn’t take things too far with her, so she ends up being a prisoner under his too-watchful eye.
He searches my eyes, knowing that I have figured this out, but he doesn’t say anything. He just leans forward to press his lips to mine and I let him. With that one kiss–that almost feels like a good-bye–I think it also means that he is going to step back and let me be who I want to be.
It’s incredible. Unbelievable, even! I cannot fathom a World in which he isn’t going to be overbearing and controlling and demanding my attention all of the time.
That also makes me really nervous and very paranoid. Is he falling out of love with me? Does he not want to be with me anymore? Was the thing I said to him so awful that he hates me now and is only hanging around for our daughter’s sake? I have to remember; I have to remember what it was so I can fix it - now!
“Aefre, I can see your mind is racing,” he says with a slight tut. “Don’t over think it, just let it be whatever it will be.”
“What?” I yell at him, standing back up, now so paranoid I feel like I am going to be sick. “Are you dumping me?” My voice has gone up a couple of octaves, shrill and whiny. Not at all attractive.
“Christ, no,” he says with a laugh. “Aefre, I will never, ever stop loving you or wanting to be with you. But you need to figure things out now. You have been through a lot and I am going to let you process it in your own way, whatever way that will be. I will always be here for you and rest assured; I will raise our daughter to be strong and confident.”
“You will raise her?” I shriek at him. He sighs and gets to his feet as well. He takes my hand to placate me, but it doesn’t work. “You don’t want me around our daughter?” The tears bubble up and I can’t stop the flow.
“Don’t be so silly,” he says, gently wiping away my tears. “I want nothing more than the three of us, four of us,” he amends quickly, “to be a family here where we belong.”
“Then what are you saying?” I ask, still hurt by his words.
“I am saying that you tend to be flighty and that’s okay. I am saying I will always be here for our child and for you,” he says so bluntly I nearly pass out.
“Flighty?” I repeat weakly. Is that what he really thinks of me? Flighty? He might as well have said flakey, or worse, just outright called me a bad mother.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I would never call you a bad mother, Aefre.”
Fuck! How does he do that?