For the first time in my life, I was free. Free to be my own man. Free to run my company as I see fit. Free from the grips of the woman who strived to see me miserable instead of happy.
Chapter Forty
Samantha
School was out for the summer, and I was due in less than a week. It was crazy how fast this pregnancy flew by. I was in the nursery, folding onesies, and making sure the changing table was packed with tiny diapers. The room was made for a princess. Weston made sure of it and spared no expense, even though I thought it was ridiculous. He was excited, so I let him have his moment.
I picked up a little white sleeper with pink roses. A tear sprang to my eye as I held it up.
“You’re crying over laundry again, aren’t you?” Zoey walked in.
“I’m hormonal. What can I say?” I smiled.
“At this point, that’s your excuse for everything.”
“It’s a reasonable excuse,” I said, folding the sleeper and putting it in the drawer.
“I can’t believe she’ll be here soon. All that crying. Ugh.”
“I have no doubt you’ll sleep right through it,” I smirked.
“You know, that baby is going to have dad wrapped around his finger before she can even walk,” Zoey said.
“Like you have him wrapped around your finger?” I smiled.
“I do not.”
“Really? Then why did he buy you a new MacBook and a new phone when your other ones were practically brand new and fine?”
“Because the new models came out, duh.”
“Exactly. You asked him in your sweet little voice, and he couldn’t resist. So don’t say you don’t have him wrapped around your finger.” I pointed at her.
“Okay. Maybe I do.”
I needed to sit down. I’d had Braxton hicks for days, but today, they were hitting hard.
“What’s wrong?” Zoey asked.
“Just Braxton hicks.” I rubbed my belly.
“Sam? Zoey?” We heard Weston’s voice.
“Up here,” Zoey yelled.
He walked into the nursery with a smile, walked over, and kissed my lips.
“How are my favorite girls today?”
“We’re good,” Zoey said. “Auntie Greta and Finn are coming over for dinner, and Mom said you have to grill.”
“I do, do I?” Wes glanced at me.
“Yes. I bought the best-looking steaks and lobster.”
“Finn didn’t mention he was coming for dinner,” Wes said.
“That’s because Greta hadn’t told him yet,” I said, gripping my belly. “We’d better get cooking.” I went to get up and doubled over.