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Nervously, I look down at the bag I had just gotten from the pharmacy. Carefully, I pull one of the packages out, turning it in my hands, before I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He should be home by now, shouldn’t he? As if on cue, the door opens downstairs and I can hear his dark, soft voice echoing through the house. “I’m home!” Shoving the package back into the bag and pushing it under the blanket as quickly as I can, I get up and leave the bedroom.
“Hi honey, how was your day?,” I call from upstairs, before slowly walking down the stairs to greet him. I bite my lip as I see him taking off his coat, revealing the blue denim shirt underneath which I love so much on him, and he turns around. “Hi,” I whisper again, my eyes locked on his, my cheeks slightly turning red. “Hi,” he breathes and takes a step forward, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs. After all this time, he still makes my knees weak and my brain fuzzy. Damn you, Benedict Cumberbatch. His hands glide around my waist and I entangle mine in his auburn curls. “So..how was your day?,” I mumble again, breathing in his scent while drowning in the oceans of his eyes. “I missed you,” he replies quietly, pulling me closer while I still stand on the last step, bringing me to his height.
I smile a little shyly, feeling like a teenager in the early stages of her first relationship, head over heels with the perfect guy. But then he is exactly that for me - the perfect guy. Always has been, always will be. Gently, I breathe a kiss onto his forehead, his cheeks and nose before I press my lips against his, chastely, tenderly, the little plastic bag from the pharmacy all but forgotten.
***
“Let’s go to bed,” I smile, as he yawns for the fifth time in a row and he blushes a bit. “Maybe that is not a bad idea,” he agrees, burying his head in my shirt while it still rests on my lap, my fingers gliding lazily through his curls. “Alright, you go ahead and I tidy up down here. I’ll join you in a minute,” I add, gently pushing him off the sofa. One last kiss and he trots upstairs while I carry our wine glasses into the kitchen and turn off the lights. Yawning myself, I slowly walk upstairs, surprised to see Benedict standing in the doorway to our bedroom, looking at me expectantly.
“Everything okay?,” I ask with raised eyebrows. “I don’t know. You tell me,” he replies, his voice low and gravelly. Still confused, I stop at the top of the staircase, hoping he will enlighten me any moment. And he does. The dark blue plastic bag from the pharmacy dangles from his finger between us, his eyes still on me, waiting for an explanation. “Oh,” I mumble and drop my gaze to my feet. “Oh? A bag full of pregnancy tests and all you can say is ‘Oh’?” He sounds disappointed and I can feel tears well up in my eyes. “I...I didn’t use any of these yet,” I stutter. “I was nervous and...I didn’t know how to talk to you about this,” I add quietly, looking back up at him, his features now soft and loving.
“Darling,...there is no need to be nervous. No need at all,” he breathes, walking towards me and pulling me into an embrace. “Do you really think you could be…?,” he mumbles, shyly, his eyes dropping down to my stomach and I nod. “It could be,” I add, relieved at the sight of the smile on his face now. “Well, then...let’s find out, shall we?” Lifting up the bag, he looks at me and I nod, nervously. What if I am...? What if I’m not...?
***
“Stop fidgeting, that doesn’t help the time go faster,” I mumble as he keeps playing with the instruction paper of one of the tests while sitting on the edge of the bathtub next to me. Slowly, the clock counts down, each tick-tock more excruciating than the other as we wait for the results. The three tests are lying next to the sink, out of reach, to keep us from staring at them but instead we stare at the huge clock on the wall. “What if…?,” I whisper, nervously. “You know how I feel about children but what about you?,” he asks, resting his hand gently on my thigh, both of us once again aware of the age gap of ten years between us. “I think as long as you’re with me, it would be fine,” I smile faintly. I always wanted children. True, I had hoped to marry first but well, we could catch up with that...hopefully.
“I’m with you all the way,” he breathes, pressing a kiss onto my temple, his hand lovingly squeezing my thigh and I smile, relieved. “I love you...whatever the result,” he reminds me once again and my lips find his in a tender kiss. “I love you, too,” I reply quietly, leaning onto him while we wait for the remainder of the time to pass.
“Time’s up.” As I look into his eyes, I can literally feel his anticipation, his worries, and hopes that lie in these three tests. True, despite my own worries, I couldn’t think of a better father to my children than him and I guess it’s this realisation which makes me get up first and step towards the sink, eyes fixed on the tests lying on the dark grey granite countertop. “I’m sorry Benedict,” I start to whisper and turn around, the tests in my hand now, his eyes fixed on me. “But you’ll have to get used to a lot of crazy food cravings and mood swings from now on,” I conclude as the first tears well up in his eyes and he slowly drops down onto his knees. “I am having your baby,” I whisper, tears of happiness running down my cheeks as he buries his face in my stomach, sobbing quietly, mumbling “I love you” over and over against the dampening fabric of my shirt.