Chapter Two Hundred And One
Alicia's POV
Three months passed.
I woke up one morning in December to find Malachi already awake, his hand resting on my stomach.
"She's moving," he said quietly. "I can feel her."
I put my hand over his. The baby was indeed moving. Little flutters that had become stronger over the past few weeks.
"She's active this morning."
"She knows her father's here."
"You can't possibly know that."
"I can. She moves more when I'm around."
He was probably right. I'd noticed it too but hadn't wanted to say anything.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Almost eight. Your grandmother will have breakfast ready soon."
"She always has breakfast ready."
"We're Italian now. We eat on schedule."
I smiled. We'd fallen into a routine here. Breakfast with the family. Malachi working in his office. Me spending time with Sophie or Signora Moretti or sometimes just resting. Dinner together every night.
It was peaceful. Normal. Everything I'd never had before.
