But that Wednesday afternoon when I arrive home, dinner isn't ready yet. It's weird, because normally around 6, everything's already on the table.
He's standing behind the island, punching a dough with his daughter. Looks like we're having pizza today.
I return to the kitchen once I've changed into another one of my boring loose sweater and maternity leggings, wanting to participate in the pizza making. If it were up to me, I'd rather chill with Nancy, watching Netflix. But Pao has been bugging me to join them. Create your personal pizza, she says.
"This dough reminds me of someone," he whispers when I'm standing next to him, about to join their pizza making.
"Slam her down on a kitchen counter," I blink at the sight of him actually slamming that poor dough on the hard surface,
"Knead her everywhere," my eyes widen seeing how his long fingers are groping the poor thing, abusing it,
"And stretch her out." I gulp watching how he carefully stretches the dough. Ohhhh dear God. Did I charge the battery after last night?
"Here Pao," the voice returns to normal as he casually gives a small portion of the dough to her daughter, "Let's make the base."
"Yay!" Pao shrieks in excitement while he scatters flour on the hard surface in front of them, then takes the rolling pin for the next step. For the fact I'm still recovering over here, watching how that wickedly sexy man turns into a wickedly sexy dad.
You know what. Two can play at this game.
"Oh look," I act surprised as Pao turns to me, "There's flour on your pants."
"Yeah Papa! There's flour on your pants!" Pao is surprised for real though, not knowing that I purposely sprinkled some when they were busy with their dough.
"It's okay, I can help." I offer before the super-nice daughter come down from her helper-stool to dust the mess.
And just like that I hit his bum multiple times, suppressing my evil laugh as Pao continues with her little task. I don't dare to look at him knowing he might not like the way I'm touching him but I keep on hitting his behind anyway, that I can't help myself but to give it a squeeze a couple times.
He groans deep in his throat when I squeeze for the last time, so I decided to stop and announce cheerfully, "All done!"
Pao turns to me again with a smile, "You're so nice," then she elbows the man next to her, "Hey Papa, say thank you."
I swear I'm this close to burst into laughter but I bite my lips, and wait for him to actually say it because Pao's currently nagging at him about having manners; to thank people when they're helping us. Especially when we're helpless. Yeah you’re helpless alright.
"Thanks." He mumbles.
"You're welcome." I reply him then run off to my room, finally letting out a loud laugh.
I join them twenty minutes later when Nancy called me out; it's time to put toppings on our personal pizza. I was nervous, afraid if he's gonna do something in return to my little groping just now. Thankfully, nothing else happen afterwards as the four of us peacefully deal with the task given.
I go to the bathroom while waiting for the pizza, releasing my bladder content so I won't get disrupted later during our family time. It's annoying, really, to want to pee so bad when you're enjoying your food, missing funny conversations between Pao with her Papa or Nancy.
By the time I'm back, everybody's already at the table with four different types of pizza on it. Nancy was sitting next to Pao so being the last to join the party, I had to sit next to Owen.
It's weird though, because Owen normally sits next to Pao. Whatever, I'm hungry.
"Come on, Mama! We've been waiting for you!" Pao urges me to sit while Nancy cuts the pizza with the cutter.
"Oh really? Sorry Baby," I grin and approach Owen who as always, keeps his eyes to anything but me.
My breath hitches upon realising I'm putting my bum on something uneven instead of the chair's smooth padding, only to realise it's that sneaky motherfucker's hand.
He had the audacity to put his hand on my seat, that when I sat I was placing my ass right on his palm.
I keep a straight face not to alert my daughter or Nancy but he takes that opportunity to squeeze my bum the way I did him in the kitchen.
"Do you wanna try mine, Papa?" Pao asks when Nancy places a piece on her plate.
"Of course, Sweetheart." He replies innocently while he removes his hand from my bum.
Fine. Consider it a draw.
Wasn't sure what time he arrived the next morning but when I came out of my room, still in my sleeping clothes because it's only seven, the duo was already hanging out at the kitchen.
I was mixing cream in my coffee while he prepared Pao's PB&J that he decided to open his mouth and said in a low tone, "This peanut butter reminds me of her." Oh what now. It's too early to play this game, dude.
"Smooth, creamy," he took the knife out of the jar then slapped the peanut butter on the bread, "And easy to spread."
Damn it Owen.
"Here you go, Princesa." He puts the plate with the sandwich in front of sleepy Pao, as I bring my coffee mug to my room.
There's no way I'm gonna spend one more minute with this guy while he assaults me with his lame lines. My morning is supposed to be a peaceful one, where I get to enjoy my coffee. My only cup of coffee. So no, no more of that.
But after I shower, I decided I do want to play this game.
Instead of an up-do that I always prefer for work, I decided to curl my hair and let it down, at the same time releasing my inner self- the sugar baby Estelle is back.
Only to be laughed at when I take a view of myself in front of the mirror; me, laughing at myself.
My maternity bra and panties are nowhere near sexy or slutty, with my tummy going forward like nobody’s business. This is not sugar-baby Estelle, this is baby-filled Estelle. Urgh.
I don a wrap dress that feels a bit tight, must be because when I bought it I was only eighteen weeks pregnant but now, I’m like a hundred weeks pregnant. And there’s more to go.
Luckily I only grow my tummy and breast, while the legs and other parts are still the same.
Okay, perhaps the feet is a bit swollen since I cannot fit my pre-pregnancy shoes. Louboutin what? Manolo Blahnik what? Jimmy Choo’s? Huh, what a joke. Comfort comes first nowadays.
“Pao, where are you? I’m going to work nowww,” I call her before closing the door of my room.
“Over here, Mama!” She shouts from her own room that’s on the other side.
I’m feeling conscious with my body as I walk to her, each step reminding me of how I looked in the mirror. The dress hugs every curve of my body I seriously think maybe it’s inappropriate to wear something so tight like this to work.
Owen was braiding Pao’s hair when I’ve reached her room, while I hear some noise outside probably Nancy’s cleaning up after her breakfast at the kitchen.
“I’m going now,” I lean to kiss her as Owen who’s sitting behind her seems to be shocked to see me. Yeah whatever, I’m a whale now. What.ever.
"Pao, what are we having for dinner tonight?" I ask tiredly the moment I get into the apartment.
I was so self conscious with my body because of the dress so I sneaked out at ten to buy another dress that’s designed for a heavily pregnant lady like me. I wore it that instant and finally went back to work feeling much, much better.
As usual, the father-daughter combo are spending quality time at the kitchen, cooking something that smell so good my stomach growled the moment I came out of the elevator.
"We're making four different food. One for Nancy, one for me, one for Papa, and one for you."
"Oh? Different food for everyone? So fancy?"
"Yeah," she replies proudly, as if she's the main cook.
"They're making me Paella." Nancy who's on the other side of the island grins.
"I'm having Empanadas. Which I made all by myself!" She announces in another proud tone. I chuckle seeing her face but then stop when I realise I don't know what that is.
"Huh? You don't know Empanadas? It's Papito's favorite!"
"Your Papito has a lot of favorites, Pao. Which favorite is this Empanadas?"
She sighs, but then Owen holds out his phone that she is back to being cheerful, running towards me excitedly.
"This one, Mama! This is Empanadas!"
I take the phone and let out a long "Ohhhh" before giving it back to her. She rushes to her station again and puts the phone on the counter.
"What about me? What am I having?"
"Hmm you're having Gambas al Ajillo, right Papa?"
I'm getting dizzy hearing more Spanish words from her small mouth. It's intimidating, really, that this four year old girl knows more languages than me.
"Yes, show this to her." Owen says something in Spanish before handing her his phone again. She isn't as excited as before but she comes to me anyway.
Oh. Prawn. "Mhmmm can't wait to have it!"
She walks back to her Papa then says something in that same foreign language, which her Papa takes the phone and taps his finger on the screen, then gives it back to her.
She has that boring facial expression when she hands over the phone to me, "This is what Papa's having for dinner, in case you're wondering."
I laugh at her last words; sassy Pao is being sassy. But I take the phone anyway, only to halt onto my laugh.
I quickly cover the screen as my eyes dart towards him, wanting to verify if what I'm seeing is actually the one he intends to show. But that motherfucker doesn't even look at me, just continue cooking as if he did nothing scandalous.
It's a picture of me, licking my red lips, looking directly to the camera while wearing a transparent lingerie. I was four months pregnant with our first daughter back then, took a selfie with the intention of luring him out of his boy's night.
Thank God he chose a picture that is somewhat appropriate if Pao did take a glance of it, since I wasn't wearing eye-popping outfit. Though my boobs were a bit popping, spilling out of the bustier.
But seriously, Owen? Urgh. Now I have to stay the entire dinner with him sitting opposite to me until I finally have some alone time with my boyfriends. In that case...
"I'm gonna go change." I'm gonna go charge my boyfriends.