in his voice, so I headed that direction.
“What’s up?” I asked as I turned into the spare bedroom—
And instantly gasped.
Nixon stood in the middle of the room—the one right across from his bedroom—but it no longer looked as it had when I’d moved in.
Gone were the bare walls, the simple yet elegant queen bed, and the wooden nightstand and dresser. Those pieces had been removed and replaced with a large, white-cushioned rocking chair in the corner, a white wooden crib nestled against the wall next to it. A dresser was tucked in the corner across the room, each drawer decorated with a different section of a world map. A changing pad and guard rested atop it, wicker baskets full of diapers and burp cloths next to it. A large wooden propeller hung on the wall to the left of the changing station, accented by framed photos of a propeller plane, a steam engine, and a steel-liner ship. The other wall near the closet boasted pictures of goalposts and the Raleigh field.
Tears filled my eyes as I walked deeper into the room, and I had to cover my gaping mouth as I saw what hung above the crib.
“You went back?” I asked, my voice cracking as I gaped at the vintage map of Brazil I’d fallen for at the flea market.
“I saw how much you loved it,” he said, his hands smacking against his thighs as he remained frozen in place near the rocking chair. “I thought a travel-themed nursery would be pretty fitting,” he said, a slight strain in his tone. “And it’s not all pink, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t matter, right?” He grimaced slightly at my silence. “I know I should’ve probably waited for you, but I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been working so hard in the city and finishing up your degree, not to mention the hot yoga and baby growing stuff.”
I swallowed around the emotion clogging my throat, my heart expanding so much it hurt. “Nixon,” I said, tearing my gaze from the wall and crossing the distance to him in two strides. I wrapped my arms around him, and he instantly snaked his arms around me to haul me up to his level. “I love it,” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks.
I’d never lived in a home longer than six months, not a true home with a mortgage instead of rent. I’d never stayed in one city longer than necessary, and I’d always prided myself on not staying stagnant and exploring the world.
But this?
The way Nixon loved me—unconditionally and without hesitation. The way he constantly went out of his way to show that love, even when he hadn’t been able to say the words, spoke volumes about how he saw our future together.
And for the first time in my life, I saw the value in a home. In putting down roots and formulating a plan—one that revolved around the happiness and love we wanted to raise this baby in. I’d been a little sad since the day they’d passed me over for the Breaking Boundaries abroad internship, but not now. Not after all of this. Not after realizing there was so much to explore here, with him.
“You do?” he asked, planting a quick kiss on my lips.
“Yes!” I said, kissing him back, harder, hungrier, my heart racing with the revelation that maybe adventures didn’t always have to consist of traveling every six months or exploring a new country. It could exist right here between Nixon’s arms, his kiss.
Something fluttered in my tummy that had nothing to do with the surging bliss racing through my blood, and I jolted against Nixon.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly noting my wide-eyed stare. He set me gently on my feet, and I stepped back to hold my stomach. “Babe,” he said, his tone laced with worry. “Talk to me.”
I couldn’t speak because tears rolled down my cheeks. I grabbed his hand instead, jerking him toward me and settling his hand over the left side of my tummy.
“Babe.”
I practically held my breath as that flutter happened again. I jerked my gaze up to his.
Nixon’s face shifted from worried to awed, his eyes wide.
“Say something else,” I whispered, and the man dropped to his knees before me but kept his hands on my stomach.
“Hi, baby,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.
Another flutter, and he half laughed, half gasped, his eyes drawing up to mine. They were glistening with unshed tears.
“Hi, baby,” he said again, this time there was