There was something different about Olivia, but Yasin couldn’t quite put his finger on what. After they’d told his family about the baby, she’d come home happy, but the next day she looked solemn. Was it something that he’d said? He knew that pregnancy came with surging hormones and mood swings, but he hadn’t realized that it would happen so soon.

“I’m thinking about making waffles this morning,” he said after watching her sit on the barstool, motionless for five minutes. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” She snapped out of her daze. “Waffles? That sounds great.”

“How was the phone call with your sister last night?” He had heard the two of them chatting, though he hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying. He’d just known that, by the tone of her sister’s voice, something was amiss.

“It was fine. She got the fabric that I sent her. She’s feeling a lot better, too. Her energy level is way up and she looks like her spirits are high.”

She twiddled her thumbs. It was her nervous tick. Was she lying to him? She wouldn’t start lying to him now, would she?

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She nodded then took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m a little out of sorts today. I’m just tired. Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, do you want to go back to bed?” he asked. “We don’t have any plans today. You should rest up. This week is going to be full.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh!” He rushed to a cupboard and pulled out a small bottle. “I grabbed this for you last night when I was on my way home. I totally forgot about it.” He tossed it to her.

“Prenatals,” she said. She looked at the label closely. “Gummy prenatals.” She smiled at him. “This is great, thank you.”

* * *

The next few months were a whirl of doctor’s visits and research. Between the Lamaze classes and the books on pregnancy and child-rearing that now littered the bookcases in Yasin’s home, he felt like he was in college again.

The front door was open when he got home from the office one afternoon, about four months after Olivia had announced her pregnancy. Yasin had taken an early day so that the two of them could spend some quality time together. Olivia had really started showing only in the last month or so, and the sight of her pregnant belly overjoyed him.

“Olivia?” he asked as he walked in through the open door. He shut it behind him and set the bouquet of flowers and bag down on the table in the foyer.

She came rushing around the corner which led to his wing of the estate. Her hands were covered in dried yellow paint and she had a big smile on her face. It wasn’t exactly the sight he was expecting, but it was definitely a better one.

“Hey,” she said. “Sorry. I was going to get the door once I set the last of the boxes down in the nursery. I just got home.”

“What?” Yasin said. “You were carrying boxes in? Where’s Abdul? Why didn’t he—I’ll fire him,” he sputtered.

“Oh, stop,” she said. “Don’t be so dramatic. Abdul carried the biggest boxes in. I told him that I’d carry the lightest one while he took the car to the garage.” Her eyes moved from his face to the table. “Pretty,” she said, eyeing the bouquet.

“I figured that I hadn’t gotten you flowers in a while, and you’ve been doing so much around here with the nursery—”

“Oh!” She jumped up in excitement. “Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it yellow?” he asked, looking at her hands.

She blushed. “One of them is, yes,” she said. “But first, tell me. Do you want to see what’s behind door number one or two?”

“One or two?” he repeated. He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “Hmm. Let’s go with one.”

“Good, that’s over here,” she said. She took his hand and led him to the nursery.

The nursery was painted in soft green and yellow hues. It was the neutral tone that they had chosen after deciding that they wanted to start on the nursery before they found out the sex of the baby. There were small sections of the wall and various striped designs that were left white, in order to balance the color on the walls. The baby furniture in the room—the crib, changing station, and bookcase—were also white. Boxes were stacked in the corner.

“It looks beautiful,” he said. “I love the color. It’ll serve well, no matter what the sex of the baby is.” He let out a relieved sigh. He nodded toward the boxes. “What are those?” he asked.

“Baby essentials. I figured that it would be good to stockpile some of the necessities in the closet. Diapers, blankets, burp cloths, different sizes of socks and onesies. It’ll make things easier once we—” She cleared her throat. “When you’re taking care of the baby, you shouldn’t need to go out in the middle of the night and get any emergency items if they’re all here.” She smiled at him.

He grinned back. “That’s so thoughtful of you.”

She elbowed him. “I know,” she joked.

He snickered. “Wait, so if this is door number one, what’s door number two?’

She turned to face him and took his hands in hers. He could feel the dried paint on her soft skin.

“I’ve been working on something for a while. Now, before I show it to you, I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, you do?” He tried to stifle a smile.

She grinned as she imitated his voice. “I told you that this was yours. Why did you do this? You should change it. It should be for you.” She let go of one of his hands and held her finger up. “But don’t,” she said in her own voice. “Don’t you dare say any of those things. You’ve done so much to make me comfortable here. You’ve changed your entire home to make sure that I’ll be able to get where ever I need to when I become as big as a house,” she said, rubbing her belly. “You even gave me an entire wing.”

“If you’re going to live here, you should have your own space,” he said.

She nodded and led him out into the hallway. “Okay,” she said. “Do you trust me?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I think so?”

She frowned.

“I mean, yes,” he said with a chuckle.

“Okay, good,” she said. “Now, close your eyes.”

He did as he was told. She took his other hand again and led him down a hallway. He tried to picture the layout of his home so he could figure out where they were headed. As far as he knew, they were going straight.

“Okay,” she said. She placed his hands on the railing. “We’re going to go down the stairs. I don’t want you to fall, so hold onto this.”

“All right,” he said. He took the steps slowly.

As soon as they reached the first floor, she took his hands again and led him down to her wing of the house. He could tell because they turned left at the bottom of the staircase. She was right. If she did something for him in her wing of the house, he would have told her that she should keep it for herself. The thought brought a smile to his face. She knew him well.

She stopped him and took a deep breath. Placing one of his hands on the doorknob, she said, “Okay, open the door, then open your eyes.”

Yasin also took a deep breath. What could she have done for him? His father and siblings never knew what to get him for his birthday. What could she get him that his family already hadn’t?

As the door swung inward, his eyes fluttered open. It was her spare room. The spare room that he had given her in her wing of the house.

She had painted one of the walls a light gray and had cleaned up and stained the beams that ran across the ceiling. They were a beautiful dark cherry wood. There was a long table that ran the length of the far wall, and beneath it was storage that held tubes of paint, boxes of charcoal, tins of pencils and pens, and containers that held brushes of every size imaginable.

The closet door had been taken out and Olivia had used it as storage to hold various sizes of canvas. There was a tall shelving unit in one side, which held boxes of notebooks. In the center of the room was a small round table with a bowl of fruit on it. Between the fruit and the table which held the supplies was an easel. Olivia had converted the space into an art studio for him.

“I don’t know exactly what kind of art you want to do, or what media you prefer, so it has a little bit of everything,” she explained.

Yasin was speechless. No one had ever done anything like this for him in the past. His heart swelled.

“I…I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. It’s so—” He took a deep breath. “It’s so thoughtful. No one has ever done anything this thoughtful for me before.”

“I know that you’re always busy,” she said. “And when the baby is born, you’ll really be busy all the time. But everyone needs a little time for themselves. I figured that this would be a great way for you to spend that time, if you want.” She walked inside and looked around. “Besides,” she said. “Your son or daughter should be around art. I saw how important that painting was to you and it seems to have influenced you a lot,” she said. “The one at the museum.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice catching. “It has. Thank you.”

“Maybe you can create a painting like that with your son or daughter. Kids love art and it can be so meaningful for them.”

His eyes began to well up with tears. It was surprising to the both of them.

“Are you okay?” she asked. She walked up to him and touched his cheek.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine. It’s just…wow. This is great.” He smiled. “This is so great.”

He hugged her. In that moment, with his arms wrapped around her, there was so much that he wanted to tell her. But, most of all, he just wanted to be able to tell her that he loved her.

They spent the rest of the day in the art studio, sketching each other, among other things. As he watched Olivia draw and focus on the baby toys that she had brought in to sketch, Yasin was suddenly overcome with emotion. She was doing so much for the baby. Creating art that she wanted to hang up in his or her room, painting, buying emergency supplies… She would be such a wonderful mother.

He sketched her face as she stared at the small teddy bear on the table. Her eyes lit up as she looked at it. Her face was glowing. Was it because she was pregnant? Did he love her only because she was carrying his child? The question ran through his mind, but he knew better. He knew her—that’s why he was in love with her.

He finished the sketch and looked down at it. The way that she looked at the bear made his heart ache. Even in his rough sketch, he could feel that she would make a wonderful mother. And every child deserved a wonderful mother.

Another question began to form in his mind. He wanted to ask Olivia if she would raise the child with him. His brows furrowed as he pondered it.

How could he ask her that? It would be against the contract. What if she still thought that this was just a business transaction? It was something that he’d been trying to convince himself of since her plane landed here. But now, he knew for certain that it was more than that. This wasn’t just a business transaction anymore. But how did she feel?