"Babe, I'm not going."

Bastien wouldn't look at Padma. One look at her face, and one, "You would deny the woman carrying your child?" would crumble his resolve. He stared down at the pan and poked at the green beans mid-sauté. He repeated,

"I'm not going."

Padma insisted, "It's a work dinner. Everyone is there with their partners. Everyone knows us—"

"Because I always go." Bastien shrugged. "This time, I'm not going."

"Bas—"

"Stop asking, Dea. The answer is no."

"Look at my face and tell me as much."

Bastien, reluctantly, turned to face his wife. His powerful, beautiful, pregnant wife for whom he would swim across an ocean if she asked. Padma had come home from work dressed in one of her nicer suits. Her body hadn't changed much; her stomach looked like little more than a post-dinner bloat. Three months into this, and they still hadn't told many people.

His dad knew. Narcissa Malfoy knew. The girls—Hermione, Parvati, and Ginny—knew. The other parents? The Patils, Sajjad, and Bastien's mum didn't know. Bastien felt bad keeping Sajjad in the dark, but as for the others … He wasn't confident Padma's parents would be happy. Parvati was the child they expected to give them grandchildren while Padma was bitch slapping tech companies back to the Industrial Revolution. Padma was determined to keep their baby news quiet for as long as possible.

Bastien suspected she wasn't entirely keen on becoming a mum. The longer she kept it quiet, the more Bastien believed Padma was doing this almost entirely because he asked her to. Not because she wanted to have a child. He said, rather softly,

"I don't want to go."

"Why?" asked Padma.

"Will Linderina be there?"

"Yes."

"That's why, then." Bastien revealed, "I hate her boyfriend."

"Fiancé, now."

"Oh, even fucking better." He turned to poke at the green beans again before facing Padma to say, "I hate that guy. He's an arse, he's a misogynist, and his hairline freaks me out."

Padma confirmed, "His hairline?"

"The top of his head looks like a U-bend."

Padma snickered and conceded, "It does."

"He orders her food for her." Bastien half-shouted, "He wants to control her. He's found a woman dumb enough to fall for him, and I hate seeing that such a brilliant lawyer can, in this instance, be a total dumbarse."

Padma insisted, "Linderina isn't dumb."

"She is for pledging her life to that fuckwit. I don't want to be there to see it. I don't like watching it."

"You cannot understand. Sometimes, the consequences of leaving a relationship are worse than staying in it."

"You're right," replied Bastien, "I don't."

"Nobody you've dated would ever try to kill you when you broke up with them."

"Tristram isn't the sort of bloke—"

Padma snapped, "Nobody is until they are. Women don't have the luxury of taking that chance, Bas. If you want her to break up with him, you best be certain Linderina is protected from the consequences. Otherwise, shut up about it."

"I'm not going to shut up about it! She shouldn't have chosen him in the first place. You women keep settling for shit, and there's no incentive for men to not be shit when the whole bloody sex keeps letting them get away with it!"

"Being a woman is difficult. Finding someone to support you in all the important ways is nearly impossible! We try to find the best in what is available."

Bastien took the green beans off the stove and angrily tossed the pan down on the potholder. He half-shouted at Padma,

"When we met, you were searching for a man. What were your qualifications?"

"Tolerable, Indian or Bengali, high income, Hindu."

"Exactly, and how much of that did you actually end up with?"

Padma reluctantly admitted, "None of those are words I could use to describe you."

"And that's my problem. If you'd only been willing to look inside your box, we wouldn't be together. We are the happiest couple, the most functional couple, whatever adjectives our friends use … Padma, I never imagined anything like a family for myself. I'm so happy with our life together, but it's a life you never would've considered. Women have these preconceived notions that keep really good blokes on the bench."

"You took initiative! You stepped off the bench and showed me the life, the love we could have together. Perhaps the good blokes should do that."

"It's the fear of rejection that keeps them from it. It's not hard for me because, well," he gestured vaguely to himself. "I've got all this going on and I've shagged enough women to make a football league. My confidence is on solid ground, and the only thing that could shake it is you." Before thinking about it, he snapped, "You're doing a damn fine job of it already."

Padma asked, "How have I shaken your confidence, Bas?"

"Our baby! It doesn't feel like you want it, and I keep feeling like it's my fault. I haven't loved you enough, I'm not worth going through with it—"

"All proper shit things to believe."

"What other options have you given me?!"

Padma huffed, "I'm giving you a child!"

"Us, Padma!" Bastien shouted, "You are giving us a child!"

Padma began walking toward the couch, so Bastien followed. He watched her sit, smooth out her trousers, and wait for him to speak. He'd been through this too many times with Blaise, whomever blinked first would lose. Bastien stood with his hands in his pockets until Padma asked,

"Are you planning to finish dinner?"

"Are you planning to finish this pregnancy?"

She shrugged and admitted, "I don't know."

"We're running out of time for you not to know. I don't want you having a child you're never going to truly love because you feel like it's taking something from you."

"That's what a child does, Bas. They take parts of you and your whole life becomes about them. Is it wrong for me to be afraid of that? To fear losing myself in the process of doing this for you—"

"Us." Bastien insisted, "Either you're doing this for us, or you aren't doing it at all. I won't hold it against you if you decide this isn't something you want to go through with. I will hold it against you if you cannot find it in yourself to love our child."

"Everyone we've told has been so happy."

Padma started crying and Bastien couldn't bear it. He sat beside her on the sofa and wrapped an arm around her. She stuttered over her words, saying,

"I can't find it in me to be," she sniffled, "I'm not as happy as them. I want to be happy because I see it in your eyes. Their eyes. Like I'm doing something good, but it doesn't feel good to me. I'm scared all the time, and I don't feel like my body is mine anymore. I'm sharing it with this child I only want half of. I only want the you half, the Bastien half. I don't want the part of it that's me."

"It's settled, then." Bastien tried to keep his voice steady when he said, "You need to end this. Perhaps we can try again in a year or two when things are steadier and we've had time to think it through. Everyone said we'd have months and months before you could get pregnant and this timeline hasn't worked for us. That isn't your fault, Dea. If anything, it's my powerful balls that put you in this position."

Padma half-laughed, half-cried. She wiped her nose with the side of her wrist and shook her head.

"I don't want to give up our baby, I only want to be happier about it. I feel I'm missing the part of me that's meant to be a mum. Everyone always says women glow when they're pregnant, as if there is a new sparkle in their eyes or bounce in their step. All I see in myself is exhaustion and fear. I don't know how to make myself happier."

"Babe, this isn't going to make you feel better, but I've got to say it. I think you may not like this child because you share your body with Parvati, and now you're sharing it with someone else. Then you've got both our expectations to live up to."

She nodded.

"Maybe, then, you need to ask yourself once our child arrives are you going to love her?"

"I think so, but I can't know." Padma shrugged. "How can I know?"

"Right, okay," Bastien huffed, a bit frustrated, but tried to keep his head on straight. He wasn't lending his body to this particular experience. "The question, then, is are you going to be happier with us as a family of two, or us as a family of three?"

"Three." Padma sounded quite certain. "I want us to be a family of three."

"It's settled, then." Bastien leaned down and pressed his lips against Padma's chest. He mumbled, "Seven months from now, me and little Morgana are going to be fighting over these tits."

Padma giggled and said, "I've got two, Bas. Perhaps you can find it in yourself to share."

He lifted his head and stole a quick kiss before saying, "I need you to stop doubting yourself. I'm not asking you to be happy, all I'm asking is that you remember our little girl is using you as her first home. Let's make certain she can feel the love in it, is all."

"I can do that."

"Good. I can care for you, Dea, while you care for her."

"Come to dinner with us, then."

Us. Bastien shook his head. That was just like Padma, turning his words back upon him. He supposed that would be the inevitable consequence of marrying a solicitor, but nonetheless he always seemed to be outwitted just when he thought he had the upper hand. Bastien unbuttoned her trousers and said,

"I can be bribed."

Padma shooed his hand away and buttoned her trousers.

"You can be rewarded."

Bastien leaned back on the sofa and groaned, "If I get myself off, will you watch, at least?"

Padma stood to reply, "That would take the sweetness out of tomorrow's reward."

"No, babe, it's like ..." Bastien gestured vaguely ... "The appetizer. Help me get off now, appetizer. I'll go to dinner with you and your dreadfully dull colleagues tomorrow, then I can fuck you for dessert. It's a full meal. I'm a large man, Padma, I need a complete meal—"

"Earn it, then."

Bastien huffed, "I thought I was helping, encouraging you about our baby. For all that I get, 'Maybe I'll fuck you tomorrow, Bas.'"

"No," Padma replied, "for all that you get a wife who will love you as long as the sun continues to shine, Bastien. I'm not in the mood for sex tonight. I'm simply ... not."

"Is it because I suggested—"

"No." Padma insisted, "No, I am grateful you suggested stopping this journey and beginning it another time, but I look forward to meeting this child. This is our Morgana, I named her, and I will bring her into this world. As I said, I wish I could be happier about it. Motherhood is a change I wasn't entirely prepared for, and I am learning as I go. That is all."

"Is it something else, then? Have I said something, done something wrong?"

"My blazer doesn't button."

"Hmm?"

"My blazer doesn't button. All my suits have been tailored to my body the way it was. Now that I'm carrying a passenger ..." Padma gestured rather reluctantly toward her stomach. "My trousers still fasten with a bit of strain, but the jackets are reaching a point where I can no longer wear them. I need to go shopping for larger clothes, and it's put me off sex today. I'm sorry."

Bastien shrugged and said, "Okay. Right, then. I will reiterate that I enjoy your body, and my credit card is yours for whatever you need."

"I don't want my wardrobe coming out of your accounts."

"My child's coming out of your vagina, babe; it's alright if your clothes come out of my bank account." Bastien stood and wrapped his arms around Padma from behind. "You may not like the changes your body is going through," he kissed her cheek, "but I love them. Someday, little Morgana's going to be looking at us thinking, 'My parents are such saps, they're so embarrassing.' And I want nothing more than to embarrass the shit out of our little girl because we love each other so much, yeah? Is that what you want, Dea?"

Padma leaned into him and confirmed, "I want nothing more."

.oOo.

Padma's firm was on the smaller side, but they treated their employees well. Eleven or so of their solicitors were present at dinner, each with their partners seated around the table. They were in a back room, all twenty-plus of them. Including, rather unfortunately, Linderina Crane and her dullard fiance Tristram Bassenthwaite. Linderina was beautiful, with bright red hair and green eyes. She had that slim button nose and a deceptively innocent smile which seemed to vanish whenever she looked toward her fiancé. Bastien ignored them both and made conversation with everyone else. He watched Padma in her element, matching wits with everyone from the newest solicitor to the owner of the firm.

When the waiter began taking everyone's dinner order, it took everything Bastien had not to leap over the table and strangle that insipid bloke when he said,

"My fiancee will have the potato gnocchi, and I will have the lamb."

Padma placed her hand on his thigh as if to say, I will handle this. Trust me to handle it. Bastien controlled his breaths and acknowledged each of his emotions. Anger at Bassenthwaite for believing he owned the woman at his side. Disappointment in Linderina for stooping so low as to allow him to believe such a thing. Confusion as to how the two of them had anything in common. Irritation at Padma for having dragged him to this dinner.

Yet, it wasn't his place to act on any of those feelings. The emotions were present, but they would remain with him alone. The waiter looked at Bastien, expecting an order, but Padma dug her nails into his thigh and slapped her menu closed.

"My husband will have the eel, and I will have the grilled pollack. Thank you."

She stared at Tristram for several seconds before returning her attention to the conversation at her left. Bastien couldn't keep the grin off his face. That was his wife: make a point without shouting it. The food came out, it was delicious, everything was great until the conversation turned to work. Linderina revealed,

"We're working on the right to disappear, meaning the average person's ability to have their information removed from the internet. Sometimes for safety, sometimes for career purposes, does an individual have the right to control their presence in the public sphere online?"

"Really?" Bastien wondered, "How is that different for public figures, then? Where would you draw the line between someone's 'right to disappear' and the public's right to know?"

Linderina's face lit up, and Tristram immediately took note. He seemed displeased but kept drinking his wine and smacking his lips after each sip.

"That is precisely what we are trying to determine. There's been loads of litigation determining what constitutes a public figure, obviously the press has a rather broad definition while individuals who have been dragged through the muck take the opposite view. The safety angle is what we're currently pursuing as it's the easiest sell—"

"Don't post things you don't wish people to see." Tristram shrugged. "Seems rather simple to me."

Linderina tried not to let her irritation show.

"In some instances, information can be posted without consent. It's important to preserve the right for people to control where their home address is displayed, or where their child is going to school—"

"Who cares? What does the average person need to be protected from? Unless you're in MI-6 or working for the Home Secretary, who bloody well cares about what's out there? Seems a bit conceited to assume somebody's looking for you."

"I think that's a bit close-minded—"

"Close-minded?" Tristram scoffed. "Lindy, I'm just expressing my opinion and you've got to be a bitch with your superior views—"

"OI!" Bastien snapped. "That is not the way you speak to a woman in public."

The entire table looked at him, then. Bastien could feel Padma tense beside him. She had to have known he would react to that. He could control his emotions, sure, but Bastien would not tolerate a lack of propriety around a woman at work. Tristram glared at him and asked,

"What's it to you, Queensbury? You think you can tell me how to talk to my woman?"

"Linderina, here, is her own woman."

"Who does not need your help at this moment," she replied.

"I'm not speaking up for you," said Bastien, "you're the idiot who's tied yourself to this bloke. I just want the other women at the table to know that's unacceptable. Proper men treat all people with respect until they've shown they do not deserve it."

Padma whispered, "I told you not to call her an idiot."

"Look at all these other men 'round the table." Bastien gestured toward the handful of men sitting beside their partners. "I can't speak for them, whether they're good men or nice people. But I know damn well that none of them disrespect the person they claim to love in the way Bassenthwaite did just now. When you look at what you want in a husband, Linderina, what is it? What sort of man do you want?"

Lindy thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.

"Someone nice?"

Bastien pointed his fork at Tristram and asked, "Is that man nice to you?"

Linderina made a face, having realised everyone knew the answer. Even Tristram made a face like he knew the answer.

"S—"

"If you say 'sometimes' I will jump across the table and rip his head off. Is that man nice to you?"

"No." Linderina cleared her throat and stared down at the table as she admitted, "No, he isn't."

"Then why the hell are you engaged to him?" asked Bastien. "You're wealthy enough of your own, and Padma says she'd want no one else to defend her in court. I know you've got better prospects than this, and this is the problem with women today. You've got the freedom, got the options, hold all the bloody cards and then you settle for pieces of shit like him."

Tristram scrunched his face and started to say, "Don't talk about me like—"

"You lost the right to be part of this conversation when you called your fiancée a bitch in front of her colleagues," Bastien snapped. "You women choose him and men like him, and I can't wrap my head around it."

"There's only one Bastien Queensbury," replied Linderina. "Most men are shit."

"Yeah, most men are shit, but the good ones don't settle. I never thought I'd get married. Hell, my dick should've had its own passport. But the moment I saw Padma I knew she was the woman I wanted as my wife. Then, Padma's twin sister just got engaged to my best mate. Ced's thirty-seven, everyone loves him, everyone respects him, he's the epitome of a truly good English man. Ced waited until he found Parvati because he knew the right woman was out there."

"I'm thirty-six, Bastien. I'm running out of time to be particular."

"It's the opposite; you're too particular."

"How do you mean?"

"You're not looking for men in the proper places. You think he's got to be wealthy, nice-looking, properly educated, have a steady career, and be ready to make a family. He's got to be XYZ things before you even turn your head to look."

Linderina challenged, "What am I missing, then? Have you got another friend that's just waiting around for his woman?"

"Loads." Bastien shrugged. "Actually," he pulled his phone from his pocket, "would you date someone younger?"

Linderina made a face and asked, "How much younger?"

"He's thirty-two."

"Is he nice?"

"Nice bloke, but, more importantly, he's interesting. My dad's a blacksmith, you know, and they've got a tight community. One of his mates' sons is a stonemason—"

"A sculptor?"

Bastien choked back a laugh and said, "No, a stonemason, a fucking craftsman, Linderina. The sort of bloke who makes the reliefs you see in churches and the most elaborate gravestones you'd ever imagine. He's decent looking, got more hair than your bastard fiancé, and he's about your height." Bastien pulled up Ashton's Instagram and sent it to Linderina while the table hesitantly returned to their prior conversations.

Lindy scrolled through and her eyebrows gradually made their way toward her hairline.

"He makes these?"

"Told you, he's a craftsman." Bastien pulled up Ashton's contact information, then offered an AirPod to Linderina. She accepted, and he tapped the FaceTime. It rang twice before Ashton's sweat-soaked face appeared on the screen. "Alright, mate?"

"Queensbury?" He grabbed a towel and wiped his brow before tossing it aside. "You need something?"

"Yeah, mate, Padma's got this gorgeous lawyer friend who's about to dump her shithead fiancé—"

Tristram butted in with, "Don't insult me—"

"What did I say about you and this conversation?" snapped Bastien. "Shut the fuck up or I will knock the teeth out of your skull."

"Sounds like a real winner," replied Ashton.

"Tell me about it," said Bastien. "At any rate, she's gorgeous, taller than you by an inch perhaps, great gig as a lawyer. She liked your Instagram. Haven't told her you've got a fat cock; thought she'd like to find that out for herself."

Ashton laughed, that deep baritone rumbling through the earphone. He immediately saw the change it made in Linderina. Ashton was a man's man, who deserved a top-tier woman. The more he spoke, the more Lindy melted into her seat.

"I haven't been on a date in awhile. If she's a lawyer she likes expensive shit? Do I need to wear a suit? Doubt she'd like me to show up looking like this."

"Dunno, let's ask her."

Bastien flipped the phone around and he heard the clank of Ashton's tools as they hit the floor.

"Christ up in Heaven, she's gorgeous."

Linderina blushed, Ashton unaware she could hear his reactions. Ashton prodded Bastien to,

"Ask her where she'd like to go for our first date, and whether I'm her type. Actually, don't ask her that, make me sound cool."

Linderina was eating it up, and Tristram knew it by the look on her face. Bastien offered up,

"He'd like to know where to take you on a first date, and if you think he's decent-looking."

"He's quite easy on the eyes, and I'd like to be taken to a nice dinner." Linderina teased, "Spoil me."

"That's it!" Tristram stood up from the table and shouted, "This is my fucking fiancée! She's not going on a date with some bloke on a phone—"

"I think the lady said she is," replied Bastien. "You should sit down before you completely embarrass yourself."

"You should stand up and fight me, then, if you want to get between a man and his woman."

"Last I recall, she makes more than you so I think you're her man, not the other way 'round."

Linderina insisted, "Bastien, please—"

"No, no," he grinned, "let the man tell me how desperate he is for a fight."

"That's it," Tristram gripped the shoulder of Linderina's dress and pulled her out of the seat with enough force to topple the chair. "We're going home."

Bastien could see in his eyes this wouldn't end well if Linderina was with him alone. It was everything Padma warned him it would be. Bastien stood, walked around the table, and forced himself between the partners.

"You take your hand off her right now."

Tristram pulled his fist back and punched Bastien in the left side of his jaw. It wasn't a poor blow, which made him all the more concerned for what Linderina would face behind closed doors. He heard Ashton say,

"That bastard earned his funeral," before ending the call.

Bastien pulled Tristram three full steps away, then offered, "If you leave right now, I won't be violent with you."

Tristram scoffed, "Even you're not willing to defend my bitch of a fiancée because she's not worth half the money she makes—"

Bastien hit him hard enough in the left temple to make his eyes roll back in his head. His knees buckled underneath him and he reached out aimlessly for a chair, which he toppled on his way down to the floor. It never ceased to amaze him how the average bloke believed he could take a punch from a boxer. Hell, he could probably kill Tristram with one more well-located hit. Bastien looked around to see their entire party was staring at him like he'd done something uncouth and yet terribly proper. Linderina looked rather disappointed, in herself or her fiancé he couldn't say. Bastien pulled Tristram into a standing position by the collar and said,

"Men don't talk about women that way, you understand?"

Tristram's eyes were still trying to refocus.

"You probably have a concussion, and that sucks for you since there's no one willing to sit with you to ensure you don't have an aneurysm. World would be better off if you did."

Bastien dragged him out the door to their secluded dining room, forced him down the hall, and sat him on the restaurant's floor just in view of the maître d'. He said,

"Here's what's going to happen. In a week, you'll get a job offer for twice what you're making now. You're going to accept it, and in exchange you will never see Lindy again. You will never think of her, she's gone. And if you ever, ever even look her direction again, I will kill you. And you know I can. My friends have the sort of money that topples countries so you bet your arse I can get away with murder in this goddamn country. Don't test me, Tristram. I will end you slowly."

Bastien stood up, walked down the hall, and returned to the dining room unbothered. He closed the door behind him, plopped into his chair, and asked,

"When's dessert?"

.oOo.

No sooner had Bastien and Padma stepped through the front door, than Padma was unfastening his trousers. He held up his hands and tried to toe off his shoes as he said,

"A bit eager, are we?"

"You know how your violence turns me on. I could've jumped atop you in the dining chair."

Bastien chuckled and stepped away, slipping on the wood floor in his socks. He watched Padma kick her shoes in the general direction of the mat before turning around and insisting,

"Unzip my dress."

Bastien shook his head and turned away. Padma looked down at the floor and asked,

"Have I done something wrong?"

"No!" Bastien felt like proper shit for implying she might've done anything incorrectly. Like her everyday existence wasn't enough to get his dick readily at attention. "No, babe, it's only I'm thinking about how what I do to you is something our daughter's going to feel, you know? I don't want to be shaking the floors of her house."

"Oh, Bas, I don't think that's how this works."

"Who am I supposed to ask about how this works? I'm not asking either of my parents. I'd kill myself before asking either of yours. Can you even imagine? 'Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Patil. Usually when I'm shagging your daughter I'll pull her hair, choke her hard enough to leave bruises occasionally because she likes that sort of thing ... Do you think that's going to impact our unborn daughter? Should I stop smacking Padma's arse when I bend her over the—'"

"I see your point."

"I've never had sex with a pregnant woman before. Now that things are really changing inside of you, I feel it means I've got to change what I'm doing to you."

"I hate saying it, but I believe this may be a Draco question."

"Theo's had—"

"Theo was having sex with his pregnant wife at twenty. I'd prefer you have this conversation with someone who was shagging his pregnant wife with a fully developed frontal lobe."

Bastien parried back, "I see your point. What's on the menu tonight, then?"

Padma shrugged and offered, "Something easy?"

Bastien took her by the hand and walked to their bedroom. He settled onto their bed while Padma remained in the doorframe. He nodded to the wardrobe and said,

"Let me watch you get ready for bed."

"I usually do it in the bathroom."

"Do it out here for me tonight." Bastien teased, "I'm performing a complete home inspection for my baby girl."

Padma blushed a bit before fully stepping into the room. She was never so hesitant. Bastien guessed these new changes to her body were embarrassing her somehow. If not embarrassing, challenging for her to accept.

Bastien watched her rifle through pyjamas, wondering why he always managed to miss this. She had them organized by colour, all various pastels that looked like a dream against her skin. Padma settled on a lilac slip and laid it out on her side of the bed. Bastien resisted the urge to reach out and touch the silk. Padma sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Bastien to lean over and pull down the zip. He obliged and pressed gentle kisses along her spine as he exposed every inch of skin. He pushed the dress off her shoulders so Padma could stand and let it fall to the she unfastened her bra, Bastien wondered,

"Why don't I ever watch you do this?"

"I never let you."

"Oh?"

"I don't enjoy being viewed in transition." Padma stepped out of her knickers and admitted, "I care for how I present myself to you. You're my husband, and I always try to look my best because it's what you deserve."

"You think this, right here, tits out and cunt free, that this isn't how I think you look your best?" Bastien, incredulous, said, "We've been together over three years, and I never noticed you always do this in the bathroom."

Padma tossed her hands in the air and said, "I haven't even taken the pins out of my hair."

"Put it on," Bastien nodded toward the slip, "and I'll take them out for you."

Padma obliged him, gently pulling the silk slip over her head before perching on the end of the bed. Bastien shuffled toward her, settled into a comfortable position, and began digging the pins out of Padma's updo. They sat in silence as he worked, handing each pin to her as he found them. Finally, he removed the comb from her hair and watched as she shook her head to fan it out over her shoulders.

She offered a quick, "Thank you," before rushing to place her hair pins in the bathroom. When she returned, Bastien waited for her to settle on her side of the bed before draping his arm over her waist.

"Watching you let your hair down was quite sexy, you know."

Padma shook her head in fond exasperation. She kicked at his ankles and said,

"You're still in your day clothes."

Bastien put absolutely no ceremony into his own "transition," as Padma said. He tossed everything on the floor once it was off his body, grabbed the first pair of pyjama bottoms he found, and sat on the bed to place his legs through. Bastien plopped backward onto the pillow and smiled at his wife.

"In six months we won't have this quiet anymore." He pulled the hem of Padma's slip up high enough to expose her bum. "There's something I need to tell you now, I've been a bit ashamed to ask."

"Oh?" Padma placed Bastien's hand on her waist and asked, "You never need to be ashamed with me, you know that."

"I thought you knew you could undress in front of me, but that's neither here nor there." Bastien felt his face turning pink. Padma deserved to know his thoughts. She confessed her insecurities and he owed her the same. "I'm a bit self-conscious, because once I stop training so much for boxing I'm not going to look like this anymore. I know you've always enjoyed—"

"Bas," Padma placed a hand on his cheek, "I fell in love with your confidence and I fell in love with your heart. We are going to grow old together; I never anticipated you would have abs at sixty. I look forward to you being softer around the edges because it's what our daughter deserves. You put in the time for training because we both enjoyed it. Now, we're moving into the part of our life where our child is the priority."

Bastien sighed, quite relieved, and couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"I can't tell you how worried I was, babe. I shouldn't have been, but I was."

"As I should never have doubted our decision to have a child, but I did." Padma moved Bastien's hand from her waist to her exposed cheek. "I've been considering what you said to me, about how you did not fit my preconceived qualifications, and you're right. Perhaps motherhood is just the same. My preconceived notions have clouded my enjoyment of this. How can I be so sad when I have you here with me, and a part of you inside of me?"

Bastien tugged her close and kissed her as sweetly as he could manage, trying desperately to keep his mind off his half-hard cock and Padma's round bum beneath his palm.

"We weren't ready, babe. That's the truth of it: we weren't ready. But we're here now and I plan to enjoy every second I can, looking at how your body's changing to fit our baby girl in it. It's fucking incredible, innit?"

Padma laughed and there was a new light in her eyes when she conceded, "It just might be."

"Hmm," Bastien tugged the slip all the way up to Padma's waist and asked, "You want me to do this slowly?"

Padma rolled onto her back and smiled at him.

"I believe you said this is a complete home inspection. Best to take your time with it."

Bastien glanced toward her cunt and teased …

"I see the homeowner does an excellent job with the landscaping."