Waiting For Sunday

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{epilogue}

Four Years Later

As sunlight streams in through the bedroom window, I smile and stretch as I see boxes surrounding the bed.

The clattering of pots and pans and the ripping of parcel tape rings out through the apartment as I reach over and look for the time on my phone.

“Oliver?”

The door opens and in walks my husband. Shirtless and in nothing but a pair of grey shorts.

“Morning sleepyhead,”

“Morning,”

“I enjoyed that cuddle,” I giggle as the bed dips beside me.

“I think the cuddle wasn’t the only thing you enjoyed last night,” he chuckles, as he rests the coffee beside me on the small table.

As I raise myself onto my elbows, Oliver leans down, his lips almost touching mine, but stopping when he hears a knock at the door. Rolling his eyes, he cups my cheek and quickly pecks my lips before standing and walking away.

“Get dressed,” he calls out, “Otherwise we’ll never be ready for the removal van when it gets here,”

I roll my eyes, dropping back down onto the mattress and pulling the sheets up to my nose.

“I had to bring her home,” I hear a familiar voice say.

“Why?”

“She just kept asking for her,” Amalia says, as footsteps come racing towards me. The door flying open as I see the bright green eyes I love more than life itself widen and crease a little at the outer corners. I open my arms, pulling back the sheets and gesturing for her to join me.

“Momma?”

“Yes baby?”

“I misdth you,”

“You did huh?”

“Yeah, Aunt Mali and Aunt Amy told me if I really really missed you, then they’d bring me home, and I did Momma—, I really did misdth you, and daddy,” she tells me as she curls her small body into my arms.

“Daddy!” I call out as my hand covers her tiny ears, blonde tight curls tickling my nose, “Katie wants to tell you something,”

As Oliver walks in, he smiles a gentle, dimpled smile as he climbs in beside us.

“See you later,” Amalia calls out as Oliver wraps his arms around us both.

"Bye guys," he shouts back.

“Katie said she missed us,” I smile as I run my fingers through her hair.

“She did, did she? Katie did you miss us?”

“I did daddy, I misdth you soooo much!” She grins, still trying to hide her face but fails when Oliver begins tickling her, her little legs thrashing under the covers signalling me to escape before I’m kicked. As I pull on my robe, almost tripping over a box, Oliver and Katie watch me as I disappear with my mug of decaf coffee and go to the bathroom.

“I can hear you tinkling momma,” her little voice calls out with a giggle, the same giggle she has when she’s being tickled. Even after 4 years, it still makes me smile, my chest warming and my heart swelling with nothing but love.

As I walk back into the room, I find the bed empty. The sheets in a tangled and crumpled mess and the sound of classical music playing softly in the background.

Pulling on my leggings and top, I walk in to find Katie on Oliver’s hip as he cooks us pancakes.

“So much for packing,” he chuckles as he kisses her head.

“Why are we moving again daddy?”

“Because we can’t all sleep here anymore?” He tells her.

“Why can’t we?” She asks, her eyes wide and innocent, but with a small frown resting above her big beautiful eyes.

“Because when your baby brother gets here, I don’t think you’re gonna want to share your room?”

“I don’t mind,” she grins again, hugging her toy rabbit.

“I think you might when he needs his milk in the middle of the night,” I interject as her eyes look to me.

“Momma?”

“Mhmm?” I smile as I walk towards them both, kissing her on the head before kissing Oliver.

“Can we do some yo-gah now?”

“Yes baby,” I say as she scrambles down from Oliver’s hip and pulls at my hand.

“Not for too long, your blueberry pancakes are nearly ready,” he calls after us as I set up the iPad and settle down in front of the couch.

After a few poses, I feel a little breathless, my bump too big for some of the stretches I could manage a few weeks ago. As I slump down on the couch, Oliver comes and sits beside me, handing me my plate of pancakes and then pulls Katie into his arms, her legs thrashing, her squeals like music to our ears.

“Daddy! I was doing my donwod frog,” she giggles.

I watch, my heart full, my little boy kicking my tummy as I eat the pancakes my husband made me, and smile thinking about everything we went through to get here.

I had to wait, but it had been worth it. This was my life and I couldn’t love it more.

As Oliver’s eyes look to me, Katie escaping back down to her turquoise mat, he pulls me in, sharing a bite of blueberry and runs his hand softly across my stomach and with a kiss, he breathes in, sucking a little at my bottom lip.

“I love you,” he beams,

“I love you more,”

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