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“And this will be the baby’s room. Imagine it, Theaella . We’ll move the bookshelves, put the crib over there,” he said with a gesture to the far wall. “An armchair and footstool there, in the corner, and a changing table here. It’s right across the hall from you, but I’ll be just on the other side of the house for anything you need. We can take shifts at night so you won’t have to do it all alone. We can decorate it however you want, anything you want.” He paused, shifted, stood before me, a pillar of strength and protection. And perhaps it was my delicate state, but I wanted to wrap myself up in the feeling and drift away on its eddies. “Theaella ,” he said, a single, soft syllable, “I know it’s a lot. A little wild, a little insane. But it’s not irresponsible. Please, let me do this w
- Writer
