by Hilary Wynne
As for me, I start moving my things little by little into the condo. I’m amazed at how much stuff I actually have. I end up just putting most of my clothes and shoes into the guest room, telling myself I’ll figure it all out when I feel more up to tackling the sharing of the closet. I do personalize the condo with pictures of my friends and family, and with my candles. Julian seems to enjoy the new pieces of décor and I see him looking at my pictures often. The one area I make myself at home in is the bathroom. My stuff is everywhere! Julian jokes that he’s going to need to move into the other bathroom. We’re settling into a pretty seamless transition to living together, and I wonder why I ever resisted it.
When we’re not talking about the baby, we’re discussing the wedding. Between Mari and me both planning weddings, it’s always being talked about. We spend hours on the phone talking about details, and we spent one whole day shopping for potential rings, dresses, and other wedding related items. She has known what type of wedding she wants to have since she was born and because she’s the only girl in a large Hispanic family, it’s going to be a huge affair. I want something much smaller, and thought because we were trying to make it happen quickly that it wouldn’t be hard to pull off. I was wrong.
Julian’s tune about the wedding changed when Marisol got ahold of him for breakfast one morning. I didn’t go because I wasn’t feeling well, and she did a number on him. He came home talking about how we needed to rethink the whole thing because there were just too many people we had to invite. He went along with my keeping the baby a secret, so I go along with the change in scope for the wedding. I also agree to have the whole event at the hotel, which I mistakenly thought would make things easier. I find that by doing it there I have all of Julian’s employees in our business and I hate it. Marisol is calling me every day to talk about something, and so is my mom. My sisters are even calling regularly to talk about it. It’s starting to stress me out. I want to be excited about the wedding and I’m not. I want to marry Julian, but all of this planning is a little much for me right now. I feel close to tears all the time, which is more than likely hormonal, but things are taking a toll on me. One evening after a particularly long day of wedding questions from the moms, Julian finds me in the bedroom in tears.
“Qué Pasó, Corazón?”
“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”
He looks so concerned and so sweet. I don’t want to tell him I don’t want to have a wedding, but I just can’t keep doing this right now. “I’m so overwhelmed. I’m sick and I’m tired, and I’m so busy at work. I have so much to do with the wedding because we decided to do it so quickly and our families are stressing me out big time. Our moms call me several times a day to ask questions, and you know how I am. I don’t like to be on the phone that much. I want to go dark and I can’t. So, I’m sitting here and crying because I’m hoping it’ll make me feel less stressed.”
Julian just stares at me for a little bit and doesn’t say anything. I’ve been so emotional the past few weeks and he has learned to just let me vent a little. I don’t want to just vent though. I need some resolutions here because I’m not sure I can keep up this pace. I pull back and look at him. “You don’t have anything to say about any of that?”
“Well, you could work less and you could tell your mom to back off a little. I’ll talk to my mom.”
“Work less? I’m not working less. Things are busy and I don’t see me getting any less busy there.” I’m annoyed my job would be the first thing to go in his mind.
“Don’t freak out, Lexie. You’re going to need to think about work soon. I mean, I guess we should talk about it. I just figured you wouldn’t work like this when the baby is born.”
I shake my head at him. “I guess we should talk. I’m not stopping working. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am and a few weeks ago Diego was talking about another promotion, like to his position. So that isn’t the answer.”
“You’re planning on working more when the baby is born? Who is going to take care of the baby?”
“There are two of us here. And I’m sure our parents will help.”
Julian’s snicker pisses me off. I’m not crying anymore either. “Um, I run a hotel and pretty much help run a multi-million dollar company on the side. Were you thinking I was going to stop doing that to be a stay at home dad? If so, we totally got our wires crossed.”
“I didn’t think anything Julian because I didn’t fucking plan this! But now that you bring it up, no I guess you couldn’t just stop doing what you’re doing. I can though because it’s so insignificant.” Deep down I know I’m being irrational but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“You’re being ridiculous now, Lexie. I never said that. But my role is a little different than yours and I don’t have the same options as you.”
“Options? I can quit working according to you. That’s my option!”
“Sí. I thought you would quit working. I thought you would stay home with our baby. I thought you would want to stay home with our baby. You have that option and a lot of other women don’t. Why don’t you try and be a little grateful for that?”
“Oh, I see. I should be grateful I get to give up my career while you just keep doing whatever you want. I should be grateful you’ll take care of me.”
Julian stands up and looks down at me. “Sí, you should be grateful I can take care of you and this baby, and that I want to give you the world. I don’t know where all of this is coming from, but I’m going to go for a run and leave you to figure it out. Maybe when I get back we can talk about things a little more rationally.”
I let him walk out and I don’t say anything. After I hear the door close behind me, I walk back to the bathroom, turn on some music, light a few candles and get into a warm, relaxing bath. By the time Julian comes back home, I’ve returned to my normal neurotic self. He walks in the bathroom to shower, sees me in the tub, and smiles. He gets into the shower without saying anything because I’m sure he’s waiting to see if I’m still freaking out. I get out of the bath and walk to the shower to join him. I wrap my arms around him from behind and squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
I begin to run my hands up and down his soapy body and what starts out as an innocent gesture for an apology turns into a passionate sexual encounter. For the first time in our short relationship, Julian and I haven’t been having tons of sex. I’ve been tired and sick and worried about the baby, so we’ve only made love a few quick times over the past two weeks. I keep sidestepping his advances and although he’s been understanding, I know it must be getting to him.
Before I change my mind, Julian is drying me off and carrying me to the bed. His touch is soft, yet urgent, and his mouth is greedy as it makes its way over my body. His moist, warm lips and skilled tongue do wonders to rid me of any tension, and when he finally sinks into me and holds me so there is absolutely no distance between us, my mind forgets whatever it was bothered by. Julian is gentle. His strokes are deep, yet smooth and controlled. His eyes never leave mine and through this connection we get back in sync. Since we found out about the baby, his touch has been different; more protective, more possessive. His body and his eyes tell me I’m his and when he begins to explode into me, I let go and give myself to him completely. I’ve never felt closer to him than I have these past few weeks and I know as I lie there catching my breath that I need to be honest about how I’m feeling.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I was wrong to say some of the stuff I did.”
“Can you tell me what’s really bothering you? I don’t want to fight.”
“I don’t either. I am stressed about work. I love my job and I’m scared to give it up. It’s been the one constant in my crazy world and it keeps me centered. I know I’m going to have to make some changes and I’m grateful I have options, but I wasn’t prepared to just be a mom, and it’ll take a little time for me to process that.”
/> “Well, you don’t have to think about that right now. We have months to figure it out. I hesitate to say this, but you can always come and work for me or for Bywater. You’d have a job, a career, but also real flexibility. It’s just something to think about, okay?”
I don’t want to admit it but I have thought about that as well. We work in the same industry and there isn’t any real reason other than my pride that I couldn’t work with him. “Okay.”
“And what else?” God, he knows me so well.
“I’m not sure I want this wedding.” I just blurt it out before I change my mind. Unfortunately my lack of tact makes Julian panic, and when he sits straight up and looks at me with confusion in his eyes, I know I need to clarify what I just said. “No. No. Don’t go there. I want to marry you, I just don’t know if I can plan this whole wedding right now. I’m sick and tired and out of my mind, as just evidenced a few hours ago. I feel resentful that I have to plan it. I don’t know what dress I’m going to fit into or wear, and I’m running out of time. I need more help and you’re busy. I don’t want my friends and family around because they’ll know I’m pregnant because I’m crazy.”
Julian’s expression turns into a smile. “Yep, they might notice, mi amor.”
I lightly punch his flat, ripped abs. “It’s not funny. I’m serious.”
“I know. I get it. I’m sorry I’m not doing more, and from now on I’ll start handling the details. I’ll ask you what you want, give you options, and I’ll work with my staff and run interference with my mom. You have to deal with your own mom though, okay?”
“Or we could just elope.”
“I’d marry you anywhere, anytime, and any way, but that’s not going to make you happy in the long run. Your family, your friends, and my family need to be part of this, baby. They are important and I want them to share this with us. I’ll pick up the slack and help out, okay?”
I see how much he wants this so I agree. “Okay, but I really need your help.”
“You got it, baby. You got it.”
Chapter 30
Julian keeps up his end of the bargain, and for the next two weeks he’s totally involved in all things wedding. Marisol apologized to me for being intrusive, and I felt so bad for being upset with her. I am all over the place with my emotions and although I won’t admit it to him just yet, I’m beginning to think keeping the pregnancy a secret is only making me more stressed.
We’ve settled into a good rhythm and except for the times when I freak out because I’m overly hormonal, things are really good between us. We even got through the whole pre-nuptial agreement situation without any additional drama. When I got the document last week I brought it to my dad’s attorney, and with the help of both of them, picked it over with a fine tooth comb. There was some verbiage the attorney suggested I change, but all in all it was fine with me. I signed it and gave it back to Antonio after the few changes were made, and everyone seemed relieved. It was hard not to divulge the baby news during the process due to all the talk about biological Bauers etc., but I kept quiet. This baby is a Bauer, so I figure nothing exclusionary in the agreement pertained to him or her anyway.
I have my second appointment with the doctor, and feel even more at ease when she tells us everything is looking perfect. We have an ultrasound done, and when I see the little bleep of the baby’s heartbeat on the monitor, I lose it and start bawling. I look up and see Julian is also in tears. I’m not surprised because he has been uncharacteristically emotional too. Julian has always been attentive to my needs, but it’s so different now. I thought he was into me before, but I wasn’t seeing how much he really could love. He’s so excited about the baby, and I know with every ounce of my being he’ll be an amazing father.
With all that said, I’m still pretty stressed out about the wedding, even with Julian’s help. There are some things Julian can’t do for me, like pick out a dress. My issue is things are starting not to fit, even this early on, and I’m worried that by the time the wedding rolls around I’ll be as big as a house. Julian keeps telling me it’s not noticeable yet, but I don’t agree. I see the changes in my face and body every day. My friends and my mom have all been after me to shop and are getting concerned I haven’t yet. To squash any worry they have, I agree to a day out with my mom, Marissa, her mom, Marisol, and Shannon. Marisol is in tears when I ask her to join us, and Julian is beyond touched.
“This is something she didn’t get to do. Something she’d never get to do. I can’t tell you how much it means to her and to me that you asked.”
I know thoughts of Isabelle are never far away from Julian’s mind, and I know the idea of having a “daughter” stirs up a lot of emotion with his parents. Since we found out I was pregnant and since I moved in, Julian has become more open to talking about Isabelle. It’s not much more, but he references her from time to time. A few days ago I came home to find some of his family pictures placed throughout the condo in new frames. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but it was such a big deal. Julian has truly started dealing with his past and moving on, and I’d like to think I had a little something to do with it. I get more proof of his willingness to live fully in the present when he calls me and tells me he and Mateo are grabbing a drink after work one weekday night.
On our planned shopping day Marisol meets us at a bridal boutique in Surfside. We’re stopping there and then heading to Bal Harbour to shop. When she sees me she hugs me tightly and whispers in my ear, “Gracias, hija.” Her calling me her daughter feels good. It feels right and I hug her back just as hard.
The minute we step into the store I’m overwhelmed. There are so many beautiful dresses to look at. Marissa has a style picked out and even some designers she wants to wear. It’s so unlike me to be so behind the eight ball on something regarding fashion. It’s almost like I’ve never shopped before! What I do know is I need it to be able to be ready in a few months and I need to make sure it won’t accentuate the baby bump I’m sure to be sporting. So, there goes anything really fitted, which would’ve been what I was looking for. I also have my wedding shoes to think about. I’ll be wearing the Sergio Rossi ones Julian just gave me, so the dress needs to go with those too. I find myself gravitating towards dresses that have a more casual vibe because of my initial desire to get married on the beach, but don’t settle on any because our wedding is now bigger and at the hotel. My mom pulls out dresses she knows I’ll like, and I do, but they aren’t practical anymore.
“Have you changed your taste, Alexa Rose? I thought I knew what you liked.”
I try and play it off. “I don’t want to look like every other bride this season, Mom. I’ll know it when I see it. This is a one shot deal so chill out and let me look. I want it to be perfect.”
Everyone is in a great mood except for me. As I try on dress after dress, I know my boobs are falling out or will be falling out of it in a few months. With each dress I try on, I feel more anxious. During one dress change, I get flushed and sweaty and start to have heart palpitations. Luckily I’m able to come around quickly and nobody seems to notice. I text Julian during my meltdown for some words of comfort.
Alexa: I’m freaking out. Nothing will fit in three months. I’m hiding in the dressing room.
Julian: You’d look perfect in a pillow case. Just look today and don’t decide. There’s no pressure.
No pressure. He isn’t here with the two bridal moms and a mom who isn’t your mom but is in total bridal mode too. Marissa’s mom, Monica, is just as pushy as the others and has a lot of opinions.
Another thing adding to the pressure is that I have no budget for the dress. Julian offered to pay for anything I wanted. I’m not going to take him up on it because my parents want to pay for it, but even my mom isn’t being price conscious. Julian is basically taking care of everything because the wedding is at the hotel, and I know that bothers my parents who can afford a nice wedding for their youngest daughter. I keep this in mind as I contemplate totally blowing off dress
shopping. I know my mom is excited, so I fake a smile and keep trying on dresses.
After about four hours of shopping, I’m exhausted but a little closer to picking something out. I tried on a Maggie Sottero gown that met all of my criteria, and despite my reluctance to commit to a dress, I can’t get it out of my mind. The gown is a stunning tulle sheath dress with a plunging neckline and sparkling Swarovski crystal embellishment at the waist. There are intricate patterns of beaded embroidery across the whole back. It matches my shoes, it flatters me at every single angle, it’s beautiful and elegantly understated and I truly think I could hide a baby bump with the silhouette. We all agree it’s perfect and the saleslady feels confident we can get it on time. I tell her I’ll call her soon and let her know if I want it. We finish the day with a late lunch and by the time I get back to the condo, I’m running on fumes.
