Alessia:
The store smelled like clean cotton and cedarwood, soft, comforting, almost unreal.
I stood between racks of tiny clothes, fingers brushing over fabrics I never imagined myself choosing. Alexander hovered nearby, pretending to be uninterested while very obviously paying attention to everything I touched.
“This one,” I said, holding up a small gray sweater. “Too plain? I am actually thinking mostly neutral colors… to say the least until the baby is born. You know, since we don’t actually know if the baby is going to be a boy or a girl.”
He stepped closer, eyes softening. “Perfect,” he said simply. “And we can go with that. Even if we do bring in boys or girls’ clothes, we can always save them for our future kids.”
His words made me stop my tracks as I looked at him, and he ra
