The billionaire's vow.

Chapter 17: The Nursery

The nursery was Alexander's idea.

"I want to build it myself," he said.

"You've never built anything."

"I've built an empire."

"A nursery is different."

"Same thing."

Ava laughed. "You're impossible."

"You love me."

"I do."

---

They spent the weekend at the baby store.

Cribs. Changing tables. Rocking chairs.

Alexander tested every crib. Shook them. Pressed them.

"This one is sturdy."

"They're all sturdy."

"This one is the sturdiest."

Ava looked at the price tag. "It's also the most expensive."

"The best for our baby."

---

They chose a theme. Forest animals.

Owls. Foxes. Deer.

"Soft colors," Ava said. "Green and brown."

"Not pink or blue?"

"We don't know the s*x yet."

"True."

---

The furniture arrived on Tuesday.

Alexander assembled it himself.

Ava watched from the doorway.

"The instructions are confusing," he said.

"Let me see."

"No. I can do it."

"I'm not saying you can't."

"You're thinking it."

She smiled. "I'm thinking you're cute."

"I'm not cute. I'm handy."

"You're adorable."

---

Three hours later, the crib was assembled.

Alexander stood back. Admired his work.

"It's perfect."

"It's slightly crooked."

"It's character."

Ava walked to him. Kissed his cheek.

"It's perfect."

---

The painting took two days.

Alexander did the walls. Ava did the trim.

"You're good at this," she said.

"I'm good at everything."

"Humble too."

"I'm confident. There's a difference."

"Same thing."

---

The mural was Alexander's idea.

A tree. Animals. Stars.

He hired an artist. A young woman named Sarah.

"This is amazing," Ava said.

"The baby will love it."

"The baby won't know the difference."

"We will."

---

The furniture arrived.

Crib. Dresser. Rocking chair.

Alexander arranged everything. Stepped back.

"What do you think?"

Ava looked around. The soft green walls. The tree mural. The rocking chair by the window.

"It's perfect."

"I wanted to give you everything."

"You have."

He pulled her close. "Not yet. But I'm trying."

---

The baby shower was Claire's idea.

"In the garden. Flowers. Food. Gifts."

"No games," Alexander said.

"One game," Claire said.

"Fine. One."

Ava laughed. "You're negotiating a baby shower."

"I'm protecting my sanity."

"You don't have sanity."

"I have you. Same thing."

---

The shower was on a Sunday.

The garden was decorated with flowers and balloons.

Ava wore a white dress. Her belly was showing.

"You look beautiful," Alexander said.

"I feel huge."

"You look beautiful."

---

The guests arrived.

Francesca. Ava's father. Claire. Close friends.

Victoria did not come. No one mentioned her.

Ava opened gifts. Clothes. Blankets. Toys.

"This is too much," she said.

"It's not enough," Alexander replied.

"You're spoiling the baby."

"The baby deserves to be spoiled."

---

The one game was "Guess the Baby's Weight."

Everyone wrote their guesses on a card.

Alexander wrote, "Perfect."

"That's not a weight," Claire said.

"It's the only answer."

Ava kissed his cheek. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I love you."

---

After the shower, Ava sat in the nursery.

The rocking chair was comfortable. The window faced the garden.

Alexander knelt beside her.

"What are you thinking?"

"About the baby. About our future."

"What about it?"

"I never thought I'd have this. A home. A family. A husband who loves me."

"You deserve it."

"So do you."

He kissed her belly. "Hello in there. We're ready for you."

---

The baby kicked.

Ava gasped.

"What?" Alexander asked.

"The baby kicked."

He put his hand on her belly.

"Kick again."

Nothing.

"Baby, kick."

Still nothing.

"Kick or no dessert."

The baby kicked.

Ava laughed. "You're already negotiating with the baby."

"I'm starting early."

---

The next morning, Ava woke to a text from her father.

"Can I visit this weekend?"

"Of course, Papa."

"I want to see the nursery."

"The nursery isn't going anywhere."

"Neither am I."

---

Her father came on Saturday.

He stood in the doorway of the nursery. His eyes were wet.

"It's beautiful."

"Ava decorated it."

"She has good taste."

"She learned from you."

Her father hugged her. "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, Papa."

---

Alexander showed him the crib.

"I built it myself."

"It's slightly crooked."

"It's character."

Her father laughed. "You're good for her."

"I try."

"Trying is all anyone can do."

---

That night, Ava wrote in her journal.

*"Dear baby,*

*Your father built your crib. It's slightly crooked. He calls it character.*

*Your grandfather stood in your nursery and cried.*

*Your grandmother would have loved this.*

*We miss her. But we feel her with us.*

*You are so loved. More than you'll ever know.*

*Love,*

*Mama"*

---

Alexander found her writing.

"What are you doing?"

"Journaling. For the baby."

"Read me something."

She read the passage about the crib. About her father's tears.

He kissed her forehead.

"You're a good mother."

"I'm not a mother yet."

"You will be. Soon."

---

The baby kicked.

Alexander put his hand on her belly.

"I love you," he whispered.

The baby kicked again.

"I think the baby loves you too," Ava said.

"The baby has good taste."

"Just like its father."

---

They slept in each other's arms.

The nursery was ready. The baby was coming.

Their family was growing.

And they were ready.