Nikita awoke in the middle of the night, abrupt and anxious. Her hands sought her stomach, protectively cradling her unborn child as she glazed into the darkness, trying to identify what had pulled her so completely from a sound sleep. Realizing that Michael's side of the bed was empty, Nikita felt an awful sense of loneliness wash over her, a desire to be near him prompted her out of bed.
Walking down the hall, Nikita saw that the light in Michael's office was still on. Peering in, she could see Michael seated at his desk working, signing papers from the thick sheaf in front of him.
She stood there watching him for ages, content to just study him. Until, sensing her presence, Michael slowly lifted his head and saw her.
"What's the matter?" he asked softly.
Nikita took a step into the room, feeling silly, and slightly embarrassed to have tracked him down. She saw his eyes narrowing on her body, on her hands absently rubbing her stomach, which was barely veiled by the old T-shirt she wore.
Seeing the concern in his eyes, Nikita quickly dropped her hand and entered the room to reassure him, "We're fine Michael, I just woke up and missed you."
As he watched her approach, Michael thought how beautiful she was. She was wearing one of his old University T-shirts for a nightgown, which normally hung just pass mid-thigh, but now barely covered her swollen stomach. Pregnancy had changed her body, gently rounding it, softening the sharp angles and the sleekly pronounced muscled strength caused by the unforgiving workout routine she had adhered to for years before the children came. Watching her, flushed and pink, fresh from sleep, Michael stood and gathered her in his arms. Loving the feel of her and that of their child pressed between them. He never tired of seeing her this way, full with his child, tangible evidence of their love made flesh and blood. "So beautiful," he whispered into her hair.
Nikita looked up at her husband and smiled. He made her feel so loved and secure. "You finished here?" she asked.
"It will keep."
Hand in hand they walked down the darkened hall toward their bedroom. Just as Nikita reached to turn out the bedside lamp, the telephone rang. With a puzzled frown she reached for the phone and said in an inquiring voice, "Hullo?"
"Josephine," a slightly accented voice replied in a near whisper.
Nikita felt an unexplainable chill creep up her spine. In an unconscious movement she placed her hand over her unborn child as she quickly informed the caller that he had the wrong phone number and rang off.
At his touch, Nikita turned to Michael with troubled eyes. "It was the oddest thing. The man, at the other end of phone...it was as if he expected something from me," she haltingly tried to explain. "Even after I told him that he had the wrong number, he stayed on the line. It was...it was eerie, unsettlingly so."
"It's been a long day, let's get some sleep, hum?"
Without another word, Nikita went willingly into Michael's arms. With a small sigh, he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her and their child.
When Michael's breathing deepened, indicating that he was asleep; Nikita opened her eyes and stared into the darkness, her brow furled.