Two years later.
Noel.
“Happy anniversary, angel.” I pull her in for a hug as she enters the kitchen. “Four years ago today I met the love of my life and twelve months ago today she became my wife.”
“And she still doesn’t know what she let herself in for.”
I tap her arse and bury the scruff of my jaw into her neck causing her to squeal. These past two years have been phenomenal. My anxieties have stopped and I’ve loved every second of being a father. Ellen is the sweetest kid you can imagine, but fuck me does she have a temper on her when she starts. She gets that from her mother.
Last December, Tamzin officially became my wife in our perfect winter wedding, kicking off December and knocking me on my arse in a long ivory lace dress that sparkled with every turn. Along with the birth of Ellen, it was one of the proudest moments of my life.
“Is Dumpling up yet? Daddy wants to rough Mummy up a bit,” I growl into Tamzin’s neck with a bite, grabbing her to lift her onto the kitchen island, her legs wrapped around my waist.
“Our daughter will be hanging off your leg any second, so Daddy will have to rough himself up with his hand until later.”
I pull back and look at her with a raised brow when I hear the taps of tiny feet.
“Daddy. Daddy.” Ellen shrieks, waddle-running into the kitchen in a red dress and pigtails.
“Heeey!” I scoop her up as Tamzin jumps off the island. “Good morning. How’s my sweet girl?”
“Mummy do piptails.”
“And your piptails look pretty.” I kiss her cheek and she too squirms with a giggle from my scruff. “Would the little lady like breakfast?”
“Dammy oast.”
“Jammy Toast coming right up.” I grab Tamzin as she turns to leave, pulling her back to me. “And what would Mrs Thompson like?”
She grins every time I call her that. “I’m good for the moment. Need to take a shower.”
I make Ellen her breakfast and we sit at the table talking toddler language about putting the Christmas tree up later and the colours that will be on it. I love having daddy daughter talks with her, none of it makes sense at times as the majority of it is a three-worded conversation but it’s the highlight of my day. There’s nothing better than coming home and having a toddler running towards you screaming your name in excitement while her beautiful mother stands waiting with a smile. I have so much love for the both of them. Tamzin’s maternity leave extended after having Ellen, when she was due to go back to work I could see the anxiety in her eyes at the thought of leaving her with the childminder. She loves being a mother and now spends her time devoted in raising our daughter. The Parisian business was sold six months after having Ellen, for a little less than what I wanted, and half the money was put into a trust fund for her future. Alex was caught early this year in Florida and was sentenced to seven years after it was discovered that I wasn’t the only victim of his crime. Call me soft-headed, but a part of me did feel sorry for him. We’d worked together for a long time, and I can’t deny the fact I felt bad when he was sent down. The guy lost everything he loved. I guess fatherhood has changed me.
Tamzin walks into the kitchen as Ellen gets down from the table to go and play with her toys that’s scattered around our feet. Making my wife a hot chocolate, I sense her hovering around me. “Everything alright, angel. I feel like you’re about to pounce on me.”
“You wish.”
I laugh and I turn to find her leaning against the wall, looking at me with that love that never dies. She comes over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck as mine hold her waist. I take the opportunity to sway us to the Christmas music that’s playing softly from the radio while Ellen is engrossed with her Tea set. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I say.
“You tell me every day.”
“So you do listen to me then?” I tease.
“On rare occasions.” I kiss her softly and pull her closer, caressing the back of her neck as she melts into me.
“I have a present for you,” she whispers against my lips.
“On the first day of December? Wow, you’re a fast worker this year. We’ve not even got the tree up.”
She grins. “Well you learn to change traditions a little when you have a tearaway attached to your hip. And, anyway, I wanted you to have it now before your usual ‘pre’ Christmas present.”
My brows draw. “Okay.”
“It’s in my back pocket.”
I can’t help the grin when I place my hands on her arse with a squeeze, feeling something hard under my hand. I raise my brow. “What have I told you? Keep our toys away from the kid.”
I’m awarded with that eyeroll I never get tired of. “Just take the damn thing out.”
When I do, I instantly lose breath, yet the smile widens on my face. That rush of excitement that I’ve felt once before hits just as hard and robs me of my words. I look at my beautiful wife who has tears in her eyes and a smile on her face, confirming that what I’ve just read is right.
“Merry Christmas, Mr Thompson. We’re pregnant.”
The End.