After some consideration, Amy had decided that even though they weren't married and the baby hadn't arrived yet, it was time to move in with Ben. It just felt right. They'd moved in the last of her stuff this morning, and with that out of the way, Ben had already gone to work on redoing one of the rooms into a nursery. Weeks ago, he had insisted that he repaint the room for the baby and Amy had chosen a light pink color for the walls.

As she placed the drink mix back into the cupboard, she thought about how much had happened in just a few short months. Now in her eighth month of pregnancy, she felt like she was as big as a house and ready to pop. As she treaded the stairs to find Ben, she almost couldn't believe she'd been pregnant for that long. At first it seemed like it was going to be forever. Nine months. Wasn't that a supposed to be a long time? Nevertheless, the time – particularly these last two months – had sped away from her.

Things were better than ever with Ben, but each day that inched closer to the baby's arrival caused Amy to feel increasingly scared of how the baby would change their relationship. She knew it would be hard – definitely different – and she wanted nothing more desperately than for nothing to change between them. It was foolish though, as she knew the baby would be a monumental change to their lives.

"I made you some lemonade. I thought you might be thirsty," Amy said, cheerily, putting the doubts and worries aside as she entered the room. There was Ben, wearing a paint splattered t-shirt and jeans. He looked good, rugged somehow. He'd changed since their first date. He was still the same sweet guy who she'd danced with that evening in the gym, but he'd gotten better. He'd really stepped up into the role of father and provider.

He set down the roller, stood and smiled. He took the glass from her hand and placed a thankful kiss on her lips. "Thanks honey," he replied, taking a large gulp. "But, you shouldn't be in here. You know, paint fumes and such aren't good for the baby," he added.

"You know, I really could help," she whined. "I feel worthless."

"Amy, don't even talk that way. You aren't worthless, just because you can't help me slap a few coats of paint on the walls? You're wonderful, but I've got a handle on it. Besides, this is man's work," he said.

"Ben!" she scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. He could be such an idiot sometimes.

"Amy," he cooed, brushing a hair out of his face.

"I know. I know," she replied with a sigh. "You have my best interests in mind. You're right. It's best if I don't stay here too long."

"It's only because I care," he stated matter-of-factly. "I wish I felt right about you helping. I'd love you to be able to. I just care about both of you too much."

"You're sweet," she decided, kissing him again on the lips.

"I love you," he whispered in response. "I'd better finish up. The furniture should all be here this afternoon."

"Well, the color looks great, and yes, everything should be here this afternoon. Finish up and come downstairs," she said, touching his arm. "I'll make us sandwiches or something," she added with a smile. Though he was a bit overprotective and old-fashioned at times, she knew he loved her.

--

"Let's set a date," she said abruptly, after taking a bite of her turkey sandwich.

"What?" Ben exclaimed, a little surprised, nearly choking on his last bite.

"Let's set a date. I want to set a date for the wedding. I want this to be official. I want us to be official," she said, reaching over and grabbing his hand tenderly.

"If that's what you want, babe. Whenever you're ready."

"Isn't it what you want?"

"Of course it's what I want, Amy. You know it's what I want. Don't ever question that, ever. I'm just surprised that all of a sudden you want to set a date."

"All this moving and changing is making me – I don't know – sentimental? Sentimental, I guess. It makes me wish we were already married; before she gets here."

"You want to elope? We can run away to Vegas right now and get married if that's what you want. I hear it's cheap, and Elvis could even officiate," he replied jokingly. Amy smiled and laughed.

"No, Ben," she replied, still giggling. "That's not what I want. I want a real wedding, with a real dress and flowers and guests; the whole thing. I just want to set a date."

"Okay," he nodded. "When?"

"How about June? The last Saturday in June. That will give us some time to plan things, right?"

"It's March. Is that enough time?" he asked. She nodded, pursing her lips together.

"I've been talking with my mom a little bit about it. She has some ideas. I think it will be enough time."

"Well, then – the last Saturday in June it shall be," he said, leaning across the table to kiss her. "June," he murmured.

"Mrs. Amy Boykewich," she whispered in response.

"Mmhm," he replied. "I've always liked the sound of that," he added, kissing her again.

--

"You know, I think the crib should actually be over there," Amy said, considering and pointing to the only empty corner of the nursery.

Through the door and to the left was the changing table, which butted up against a large closet now full of boxes and miscellaneous items for the baby. Across from the closet, near the center of the room, was a playpen which contained some toys. The sun – which had earlier streamed through the window on the far wall – had fallen toward the horizon, and it was now quite dark out. The furniture hadn't arrived as early as they had expected.

"Let's move it there, then," Ben agreed with a nod, as the pair lifted the light oak crib and placed it in the appropriate corner. "There!" Ben exclaimed, adding a satisfied sigh at the end of his sentence. He stretched sleepily and glanced at his watch.

"It's only a little after nine o'clock," she replied, noticing his dutiful eye on the time.

"I know, but I'm sleepy. Painting all day and moving furniture takes quite a bit out of a man," he justified. Amy yawned. "See! You're tired too. Don't try and say you're not."

"Well, yes. I am, but I'm always tired. You know, with the pregnancy and all? How about we play a game, or something? Scrabble? You love Scrabble. I'm sure your dad would love to play too."

"As much as I'd love to beat you at Scrabble," he began, pulling her close to him. "I'm tired. We can play Scrabble tomorrow."

"I suppose," she replied, as he took her hand and brought her to her new room. "Thanks for all the work you did today. I know it was a lot."

"You're welcome, sweetie. I'm glad you're here to stay. Enjoy your new room," he replied. "Goodnight, Amy," he added, kissing her cheek and squeezing her hand before he retired to his own room.

Amy squeezed back on his hand. He was so adorable. She breathed a sigh of relief, having finished a long day. She shut her door and undressed quickly, selecting a whispy but modest nightgown from the drawer. She padded into the bathroom, and brushed her teeth and hair. She yawned. Returning to her room, she crawled under the covers and closed her eyes. Time passed, but she did not fall asleep. She rolled onto her side but could not rest that way either. Heaving a sigh, she rolled back onto her back. She was tired. Why could she not sleep?

--

Ben had settled into his bed quite comfortably fairly soon after Amy left. He was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard the sound of careful footsteps approaching his closed door. He heard the door open softly, but no one entered the room.

It was pitch black as Amy peered into Ben's room. Is he asleep?, she wondered. "Ben?" she whispered into the dark, not wanting to wake him if he was already asleep.

Ben rolled over onto his left side and reached to turn on the nightstand light.

"I'm here, Amy. What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

"I didn't wake you, did I? I couldn't sleep," she replied, still holding the doorknob in her left hand. "I'm tired, but it doesn't feel right, Ben."

"What doesn't feel right?" he asked, still on the brink between sleep and wake. He rubbed his eyes to try and wake up.

"Sleeping alone," she replied in a hushed tone.

"Come here," he requested, lifting up the covers to allow her to scoot in next to him. She shut the door behind herself and he wrapped the covers over both of them, engulfing her in his arms. "Now, what's this about not feeling right?"

"I don't know. I just can't get to sleep. I sleep so well when you're holding me, or at least when you are next to me. I don't want my own room, Ben. I want to be with you."

"Amy, I don't know if that's a good idea. How would your mom feel about that?"

"Ben, we're getting married. It's not exactly like we're going to do something we'd regret either. I'm kind of already pregnant."

"Amy, I thought we talked about this. I thought you wanted to wait until after the baby to, you know. Have sex. Isn't that what we both thought was best?"

"Yes, Ben. It is."

"I'm not going to lie, Amy. I do think about having sex with you. I love you, and I'm attracted to you. I can't help it. It just the way guys are, even ones with the best intentions. I can handle myself most of the time. I can hold you, and I want to – don't get me wrong, Amy – I love holding you, and falling asleep next to you. But, doing it every night could be hard. I want to keep my promise to you, Amy. I want us to wait until after the baby, until after we're married."

"I want that too, Ben," she replied nuzzling into his shoulder. She felt him breathe in deeply. "Ben, I'm eight months pregnant. I'm huge. Why would you want to have sex with me?"

She didn't understand. He sighed.

"Amy, it's not about how you look on the outside. It's about who you are. It's about what you mean to me," he replied. "Sex is just the final step," he added. He sighed again. It would be difficult, but he loved Amy. He believed he could manage anything in the name of their love.

"All I want is fall asleep next to you every night, and wake up next to you each morning. That's all," she replied.

"Alright," he conceded. "You can stay, but I'm making a promise to you tonight, a promise I expect you to hold me to. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want to happen. I know how hard it must be to even think about sex after what happened with Ricky."

Amy smiled. Ben never broke his promises.

"Yeah, I do see sex a little differently now that all of this happened, but Ben, you are not Ricky," she responded.

"Thank God," he scoffed. She laughed a little.

"You are not Ricky, Ben," she continued. "You know your weaknesses and you show them to me. You aren't trying to force me to do something you know I'm not ready to do, even though I know you want to. That is what makes you different from Ricky," she replied. "That and I love you."

He pressed a kiss on her lips and held her tighter.

"I love you too. You are so important to me. You have absolutely no idea. I worry everyday that I'll mess up and hurt you like he did, or in a different way. I never want to hurt you, Amy."

"You won't," she whispered back. "You're so good to me."

"This twin bed is awfully cozy for two," he replied, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I don't mind being cozy with you," she replied.

"Nor I with you," he assured her, "as I've already said. But, perhaps we should look into getting a bigger one," he added, "just in case we might want to stretch out sometime."

"That sounds good," she replied. She was there to stay.

"Is it alright if we go to sleep now? I'm still pretty tired," he asked.

"Yes," she answered, with a yawn.

"Will you be able to sleep now?" he inquired once more. "Amy?" he whispered. It was no use. She was already asleep, safe in his arms. Ben smiled and closed his own eyes. He too fell asleep, once more, holding the woman that he loved.