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“What are you doing?”
Naomi stops in her tracks seeing Nicholas drag a giant box from the center bedroom upstairs.
After they got married and Naomi’s stuff had moved into Nicholas’s room, they had turned her room into a guest bedroom for Deborah and Harold. It wasn’t their ideal transformation, but Deborah insisted on visiting at least once a month, and it gave Naomi and Nicholas a new way to mess with her. Their current means for enjoyment was seeing how long it would take for their antics to drive Deborah out of their home for good. So far they were on month four of unwarranted visits, but she did cut her visit short by two days last month so Naomi thinks they’re making progress.
The third room had stayed untouched since they had moved in but slowly it became their storage room for all the stuff they were too lazy to take to the attic. Things went inside the room, but they never came out.
Until now apparently.
Nicholas lifts his head to look at her, a grin spreading on his face. “I’m clearing out the room so we can turn it into an arts and crafts room for you!”
Naomi’s jaw falls open. “A what?”
“An arts and - “
“I heard you. No.”
Naomi turns on her heel and drifts down the stairs.
Behind her, Nicholas’s eyebrows furrow. He abandons the box he was pushing and chases after her. He rounds in front of her, standing on the step below her so she has no choice but to stay put.
“Why not?”
His wife glares at him. “I’m not a five-year-old. I don’t dally in silly little things like arts and crafts.”
She goes to push him away from her so she can move past him, but Nicholas grabs her arm.
“Not for arts and crafts,” he amends. “I just thought you could use a creative space for your, you know… creativity.”
He smiles like a little kid, proud of himself for his thoughtfulness. Naomi would find it adorable if he wasn’t so cruel.
She throws her hands up in the air. “Are you hearing yourself, Nicholas? A creative space?? That’s the definition of ironic! You’re trying to limit my creativity to one room! You can’t do that! My creativity cannot be confined to a specific place. Just say you don’t want glitter in your coffee!”
Nicholas’s forehead crinkles at her outburst, but he sheepishly admits, “I don’t want glitter in my coffee. But that’s not - ”
“Fine! I’ll keep the glitter to a minimum for Your Royal Pain in My Arse. You’re welcome.”
She huffs and then races down the stairs to get away from him. She doesn’t get far before Nicholas catches her arm again and spins her around.
“Naomi. What’s going on?” he asks softly. He grabs her chin with two fingers to get her to meet his eyes, but she twists away, looking off to the side. “This isn’t about the room,” he realizes.
“It is,” Naomi hisses, finally meeting his eyes, fire blazing. “Now leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Now, Nicholas matches her glare with one of his own. “No.” He takes a step closer to her and then another, causing her to walk backward, until she’s pressed against the wall. One of his hands goes to rest on the wall beside her head, while the other stays gripping her wrist. He leans in closer and whispers, “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s in your head, sweetheart.”
Naomi swallows, her eyes wide. “No,” she says, but her voice wavers. “It’s nothing.”
Nicholas gives her a half-shrug, then brings his mouth to her ear. “I can do this all day.” His breath is warm against her skin, and Naomi squirms under his touch as he moves down her neck, pressing little kisses as he speaks. “So you can either tell me, or - ”
“WE PROCREATED!”
Nicholas staggers at Naomi’s exclamation. His hand drops from the wall and he steps back. Naomi covers her face with her hands.
“Or are procreating. I don’t know the grammar technicalities of our situation,” she mumbles. Still hiding her face with one palm, she removes one to point towards the stairs. “And that room is supposed to be the nursery.”
Nicholas’s gaze falls down to Naomi’s stomach. “You - you’re pregnant?” he asks slowly.
Naomi nods. “And you’re not taking it away from me!”
Eyebrows knit together, Nicholas raises his head to look at Naomi again. He gently pries Naomi’s hands off of her face, so he can see her eyes, which are shining with unshed tears.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because!” she cries. “Because maybe you believed me when I said we were never going to have kids. Or because Deborah convinced you that having children with me would be the equivalent of raising the Devil’s spawn.” Naomi sniffles, glancing away from Nicholas.
“Sweetheart.” He cups her face, forcing her to look back at him. He wipes her tears with his thumb, the corners of his lips lifting. “My mother would never be successful in that endeavor. Every guy in the world who wants to be a father would want to have your kids.”
Naomi snorts and rolls her eyes, but she bites down on a smile.
Nicholas grins, resting his forehead against hers. “Don’t believe me? There’s a whole line of men outside. Go check.”
Naomi shakes her head and looks up at him through her lashes. “I only want you.”
He presses his lips to her forehead. “And you have me. Forever.” Then, he drops to his knees and places his hands on Naomi’s stomach. “And you will always have me, too, Baby Rosefield,” he whispers and then kisses her belly.
He stands up again and wraps his arms arounds Naomi. She sighs happily, a weight lifted off of her chest, and melts into his embrace.
They stay like that for a moment, Nicholas’s hand running over her hair, before he asks, “Wait, how long have you known?”
“Only 2 days,” Naomi says. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you, because I wanted to do something cool, like a cake with a tiny baby doll hidden inside or give you one of those ‘Daddy’s Little Heathen’ onesies, but noooo, you just had to ruin it.”
Nicholas smiles. “Why is our child a heathen?”
Naomi pulls back a little to blink at him as if it’s obvious. “It’s gonna be half your child. Of course it’s going to be a heathen.”
His smile only grows wider, but then it slips as concern laces his features. “Have you gone to the doctor yet? We need to make sure we’re prepared and the baby is healthy and you’re healthy and oh! We need to know which prenatal vitamins you need and -”
Naomi puts a hand to his chest to calm him down. “Nicholas, Nicholas! Shh.”
He narrows his eyes at her. “Prenatal care is not a joke, Naomi. We need to take this seriously.”
Naomi’s lips quirk up. “I know, and we are. I have an appointment next week.”
Nicholas nods. “Okay, okay.” And then his smile is back. “I’m really excited, you know.”
Naomi’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You're going to make a great mom. I can't wait.” And then Nicholas gets an evil glint in his eyes. “Should we start thinking about how we’re gonna tell my parents?
Naomi smirks. “Oh, I already have a few ideas.”