The next summer, we travelled to Henford-on-Bagley to get married near the place Cecilia grew up. We rented a tiny cottage and spent a few days before the wedding visiting places from her childhood.
She showed me an old gazebo and the local ruins she used to play in, her favourite tree. I felt honoured that she would share all this with me.
The Bramblewood felt like a place in a dream, and it only seemed fitting that this was where Cecilia had come from.
She even took me skinny-dipping by the waterfalls of the Bagley river.
Cecilia was my very own fairytale princess and I was almost surprised that various small animals weren’t constantly accosting her to sing a duet or trying to sew her a dress.
I was about to make a joke about it, but when I turned around, I saw her trying to befriend a couple of small birds. It took effort not to burst out laughing and scare them away.
Then came the wedding itself.
Cecilia looked radiant and I almost forgot to breathe as her father walked her towards me.
I had never met Stephen, as he had stayed behind on the Bell family farm after the divorce from Cecilia’s mother. I had been nervous about it, but it was clear that much of Cecilia’s gentle nature came from him.
Her mother, Ariana, and her brother, Leopold, I knew from the first time we dated. Although her brother was no longer that annoying little kid who would come knocking at the door to Cecilia’s room while she and I were making out, only to run away giggling.
And just like that, we were married. I still couldn’t believe that she wanted to spend her life with me, that she was truly mine now.
Considering that the wedding was all the way across the sea, I was touched that Athena and Jamie had come, especially since Athena was heavily pregnant. At least someone else appreciated that the champagne was alcohol-free.
Colten made a toast to the joys of being married, and I caught Katherine and Conrad exchanging a significant look.
I knew it couldn’t be easy for her to attend, but I appreciated her and Conrad coming – and that they were taking Freya home with them.
I really didn’t want Freya to stay with me for my wedding night.
As I entered the tiny bedroom in our rented cottage, I stopped dead in my tracks. Cecilia had already removed her dress and the flowers in her hair and was waiting for me.
“Hello, husband”, she purred.
Mesmerised, I reached up to unbutton my shirt, only to find it already opened.
“Fuck, Cecilia. I’m glad I didn’t know you were wearing that under your dress all day, I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”
She laughed and sat on the bed, looking at me eagerly.
“I wanted to surprise you!”
“Yeah, well, colour me surprised”, I mumbled hoarsely, as I struggled to open my belt and kick off my shoes at the same time.
I joined my wife on the bed and kissed her, hungrily. My hand found her stomach, still almost flat.
Almost.
She smiled.
“I don’t think anyone noticed yet.”
We had decided that we wanted children as soon as possible, but it had still been a surprise when Cecilia found out that she was pregnant just before the wedding. I was delighted. And terrified. I saw doctor Holland regularly all through the pregnancy, and Cecilia did her best to remind me that the situation was very different this time.
And it was. Even as she slowly reached a size where she was borrowing my old shirts because none of her own clothes fit, I felt no signs of my depression returning.
I wasn’t truly worried about us having a baby, only about getting hit by depression again. The thought of Cecilia carrying my child didn’t fill me with anxiety, but with joy. Still, it was a relief to be able to share my thoughts and worries with her on our, now rather slow, walks.
Freya was very excited about getting a brother or sister. I knew Katherine had mixed feelings about it. She said she was happy for us, but I could tell she was a little jealous. She would never give Freya siblings.
Towards the end of her pregnancy, I think I was even more impatient for our child to be born than Cecilia was. Not that she wasn’t very ready to get it over with as well. She had been uncomfortable all day, and was now lying on top of me so I could stroke her back, twisted awkwardly to the side to make room for her belly.
Her breathing was slow and steady, like she was almost falling asleep. Then I felt something.
“Cecilia, darling”, I mumbled. “I love you no matter what, but either you just peed on me, or we really need to go. Now.”
She quickly changed and we left. When we arrived at the hospital, I felt my pulse quickening. I loved Freya more than my own life, but my last visit to the maternity ward ten years ago had been traumatising.
But Cecilia was in pain, and as I was swaying back and forth to soothe her, I was able to put the past aside.
This was here and now.
I was looking on in awe as she gave birth. I wanted to take away the pain, help her, but somehow her body knew how to do all the right things.
Before long, she was holding our daughter in her arms.
I had two daughters now.
I couldn’t be happier.
beginning / previous / next
32 notes
·
View notes