Trevor can't keep his hands off his wife (not in that way yet aleast).
No, instead, his hands have yet to stray far from some part of her. His fingers drummed an excited rhythm on her thigh in the car. His fingers danced against the small of her back as he escorted her into the restaurant. His hands lingered on her shoulders as he pushed in her chair. Now, his palm is molded to her thigh, hidden beneath the draping of the damask tablecloth. No one can tell – except for her, which is the only way he needs it to be. From time to time, she glances over, flashing him that secret smile of hers.
Now, he returns it with one of his own.
The conversation ebbs and flows between them, his client, and his client's wife. Olivia leans in, her elbows delicately balanced on the table as she grandly gestures. For now, he sits back, watching her charm the client and his wife. Her face is lit up and she laughs, a gentle sound that fills his chest. He smiles again and most observers would think it's in response to the humorous story his wife is telling. After all, the client and his wife were laughing to the point of tears. But, it's not. Nor is it that secret smile he's been exchanging with his wife all evening long.
Instead, it's a smile of contentment. Of calm. Of peace. Of knowing that his life is perfect. He has a wife he loves more than life itself, and a baby on the way. He can't ask for anything more. Five years ago, he would have shuddered at the thought of not wanting more. It was the chase that fueled him then. Back then, he lived with a thirst he could never quench. What was next? What was next? He realizes now it was a desolate way of living. He gently squeezes his wife's thigh, almost as a reminder of how full his life is now.
The gesture captures his wife's attention.
Olivia reaches for her glass and her eyes flicker to his over the rim. A question dances in the azure (Was the story too much? she asks) and he smiles briefly, gently rubbing her leg in response (It was perfect, he says). She sets her glass down and suddenly the waiter appears, reciting a litany of specialties. With the client and his wife distracted, she reaches down and rests her hand over his, squeezing. But, she doesn't look at him and he smirks at her stubbornness. He watches the grin that quietly unfolds on her lips as she reaches up, her fingers toying with the long rope of pearls around her neck. He reaches for his wine and chuckles into the glass, content to follow her lead.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her lean back, rest her hand on her stomach, and sigh quietly. An explosion of pride envelops him and his hand inches up her leg. Their dinner companions fall to the wayside as his trembling hand covers hers, their hands shielding their baby from the world. Maybe it would be a boy. A little boy with his wife's dark hair and blue eyes.
Trevor felt her fingers lacing through his and when he looked over, their eyes met again. Her deliciously secret smile wove its way from her face and into his heart. The new baby was their secret...for now. She didn't want anyone but his parents to be the first people they told. He, who wanted to give his wife the moon, agreed without a second thought. But, as the evening lagged on, he had to admit that there was something special about letting the baby be their secret. He was the only one who understood the mysterious glow in his wife's eyes. Who understood the proud sigh that escaped her lips when her hand settled on her stomach.
He, who was dazzled by his wife upon their first meeting, knows that he is lucky to be the one to share her secrets. Deep down, he knows that the God he doesn't always believe in blessed him with Olivia. She could have married anyone. But, she chose him.
His wife leans over without warning, her eyebrow arched. "You've lost your prized poker face, darling," she whispers in his ear at the precise moment his fingers spread apart on her stomach. Her fingertip quickly runs across his lips, smoothing away the ear-to-ear grin. She winks, squeezes his chin affectionately, and retreats to her chair as the client and his wife close their menus. He clears his throat and drops his hand back to her thigh.
Their baby was their secret.
For a few more hours.
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