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  She was interrupted when the doorbell rang. Lifting herself up from the sofa, she waddled her way over to the front door and opened it to find two boxes of her things from Houston.

  “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered, bringing the boxes inside.

  After she’d been in California for a few weeks, with plenty of time to think, Morgan had called her mother to reconcile. The conversation had gone better than she’d expected.

  “Just know you have a child to think about now. It’s not just about you anymore, Morgan,” her mother had said, and Morgan had reminded her just whose life she needed to be living.

  “Okay, okay, message received. Is there anything you need, for the baby or for you?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Morgan had said with a grin.

  Over the past few weeks, Morgan’s mother had packed up and mailed over a series of boxes of her things, including this latest, final delivery.

  Moving heavily, Morgan scooted the boxes over to the couch before finding a pair of scissors and cutting them open.

  Inside was a series of pictures from her walls, among other keepsakes and jewelry. A small pile of clothes sat inside the second box, and on top of them was the picture of Hassan which Morgan had been given all those months ago. She stared at it, gazing at his unhappy eyes and stiff posture. The man in this picture knew nothing of the man she loved, and part of her wanted to comfort him—to tell him everything would turn out better than he could ever have imagined.

  She smiled as she realized she could do that in a few hours when he got home from work.

  Morgan spent the rest of the afternoon going through her things and organizing them into their little house. The money Hassan had made at the shop had paid for a little nursery for the baby, and Morgan stopped in there daily to sit in the rocking chair and look around at the beautiful little room they had created.

  They had decided not to find out the gender of the baby—though Morgan had continued her dreams of a baby girl—and had decorated the room to be gender neutral—full of bright animals and greens and yellows. It was Morgan’s favorite place in the whole house, when she wasn’t comfortably nestled in Hassan’s arms at night.

  The sun was still high in the sky when she heard Hassan’s motorcycle pull up into their small driveway. When he opened the door, she gave him a big smile.

  “Hello, my love,” she said, and he rushed to her, taking her gently in his arms and cradling her belly with his hands.

  “And how are my two favorite people today?” he asked, kissing her warmly.

  Morgan returned his kiss with ardor, reaching for him even as her belly served as a barrier between them. When she pulled back, she grinned.

  “Kicking like a soccer player,” she said, patting her belly.

  In response, the baby began swirling around, the movement visible even under Morgan’s shirt.

  “This kid is definitely going to be keeping us on our toes,” Hassan laughed, kneeling down and kissing the belly, which wriggled around even more.

  Morgan’s stomach growled, and Hassan laughed.

  “Well now we know why baby’s so active—we need to get some food into you!”

  Morgan and Hassan enjoyed cooking their meals together, and he pulled out some meat to grill while she began chopping up a fresh salad, chewing on a candy bar while she worked. The baby clearly had her mother’s sweet tooth, as her cravings for sweets had quadrupled throughout the pregnancy.

  Once the meat was cooked they sat at their small kitchen table, already adorned with a high chair for their future third family member, and Hassan took Morgan’s hand.

  “You look beautiful,” he said and she laughed.

  “I look like a whale. I should head down the street and join Sea World.”

  Hassan laughed, stroking her hand lovingly. “Not true. Pregnancy suits you very well. You’ve got that glow everyone always talks about.”

  Morgan beamed at him as she leaned in for another kiss, before they began to tuck into their meal. Hassan was an excellent cook, and his steak was perfect. Morgan ate ravenously, the baby quieting down as though placated by the food entering her belly.

  “I got the last boxes today, from my mom,” she said between bites.

  “Anything good?” Hassan asked.

  Morgan pulled the picture of him out from her pocket and slid it across the table. He took it in his hands and looked at it with a wistful expression.

  “I was so miserable then,” he said, gazing at the picture of him and his parents. “A completely different person.”

  “And now?” Morgan asked.

  Hassan looked up at her and smiled, his white teeth gleaming as the California sun began its descent toward the ocean. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”

  Morgan beamed, and was about to ask how his day was when the phone rang.

  She moved to get up, but Hassan held out a hand and jumped up to grab the receiver himself.

  “Hello?” Hassan said.

  Morgan could hear a voice on the other end of the line, but couldn’t make out who it was.

  “What? Now?” Hassan said, and Morgan turned to look at him. His expression was a strange combination of annoyance and joy. “All right,” he continued. “We’ll see you soon.”

  When he hung up and joined her back at the table, Hassan took a breath. “My parents are in town.”

  “What?” Morgan said. They hadn’t given notice that they might be in the area—and they were also not yet aware that she was pregnant.

  “Apparently they wanted to surprise us,” Hassan said, his tone wry. “Surprise!”

  Before Morgan could even prepare for their arrival, the doorbell rang for the second time that day. She met Hassan’s eyes and both of them looked down to her belly. There was no hiding it. Hassan’s parents were about to find out they were going to be grandparents…like, right now.

  Hassan rose and opened the door to Ahmed and Almera, who stood outside with happy expressions and several large, expensive-looking suitcases.

  “My son!” Almera said, wrapping her arms around Hassan’s neck and embracing him in a tight hug.

  Hassan hugged her back, then shook hands with his father, ushering them both inside.

  Morgan remained seated until they reached the dining room, and then she rose, smiling.

  Ahmed and Almera greeted her warmly at first, then when they caught sight of her belly their expressions turned to shock.

  “Morgan! You’re…you’re…” Almera couldn’t get the words out. As she sputtered, Ahmed turned to Hassan.

  “We’ve spoken so many times over the last few months, and you never once mentioned a child! Did you not think it would be important for us to know?”

  Hassan actually blushed. It was the first time Morgan had seen his skin turn reddish in embarrassment at all.

  “We didn’t want to burden you,” he said.

  Ahmed lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t want to burden me, or you didn’t want me claiming this grandchild as my future heir?”

  “Maybe a little of both,” Hassan said quietly.

  Almera came out of her stupor and approached Morgan. “May I…?” she asked, holding a hand over her belly, but not touching her.

  Morgan smiled. “Of course.”

  Almera laid a warm hand on her belly, and, as if on cue, the baby kicked it. The future grandmother giggled in delight, pressing around for another kick.

  “Do you know what the gender is, my dear?” she asked, her eyes aglow with warmth.

  Morgan shook her head. “Not yet. We didn’t want to find out until the birth.”

  Almera nodded. “A wonderful surprise it will be, indeed.” She turned to Hassan. “There was no need to hide this from us, Hassan. Were you ever going to tell us we’d be grandparents?”

  “Of course I would have. I was just enjoying it for myself first,” he said with a sheepish grin.

  To everyone’s surprise, it was Ahmed who laughed at this.

  “You are a str
ange one, Hassan Al-Khali. We will have to arrive unannounced much more often now, so we can find out what other little secrets you keep from us.”

  “And now you can tell us all about the wedding,” Almera said as she ushered Morgan toward the sofa.

  This time it was Morgan’s turn to blush.

  Almera looked back at Hassan with accusing eyes. “Are you telling me you haven’t yet married this girl?”

  This was getting out of control fast.

  Hassan cleared his throat as he and Ahmed sat down on the other sofa.

  “That’s not always how things are done here, Mama,” he said.

  Almera huffed. “That is preposterous. This child should be born into a stable family. Ahmed, give him some money.”

  Morgan put up a hand. “Thank you, Almera, but there’s no need for that. We’re doing just fine, in all ways,” she said, casting a meaningful glance at Hassan. He had insisted at first that they get married, but she’d told him no. She didn’t want to get married until they really knew each other. She didn’t want them to make that commitment just because they had a baby coming—she wanted to do it out of love.

  Ahmed and Almera finally let the subject drop, but not without some pointed glares at Hassan, who tactfully kept his head down.

  As the sun finally set and the stars came out, Morgan couldn’t hide her yawn.

  Almera was quick to act. “Morgan, you must rest. You are growing a new life in there. It takes a lot of energy—you need your sleep.”

  Morgan didn’t have the strength to argue, so she rose and Hassan seized the opportunity to join her.

  “There is a futon in the baby’s room that you can sleep in. It’s certainly not what you’re used to, but it should be comfortable enough.”

  Ahmed looked like he was about to protest, but Almera placed a hand on his arm, and he said nothing.

  Once they were settled, Hassan and Morgan brushed their teeth and went straight to bed, their bedroom window overlooking the surf.

  Morgan rolled onto her side, the only position she could comfortably sleep in, and waited for Hassan to wrap himself around her. When he didn’t, she opened her eyes to find him kneeling on the floor next to her with a ring in his hand.

  “I know you wanted to wait, and I don’t want you to think that this is just me giving into pressure from my parents. The truth is, I’m in love with you, Morgan. I have been since we first met, really, and if I’d only realized that I never would have let you go. To think that we wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for our baby—well. I’m grateful to our child for that. I want to spend the rest of my life making you both happy and safe. There is no one else I want by my side.”

  Morgan pressed her palm against the mattress to sit up, staring down at Hassan with tears in her eyes. She thought about her life before him, so lonely and isolated. Now she had someone to spend her nights with, her life with. Someone to father her child—a child she never even knew she wanted until now.

  “Yes,” she said, wiping a tear from her eyes. “I’d love to.”

  Hassan rose then and joined her on the bed, kissing her deeply as he took her hand and placed the simple diamond ring on her finger. He helped her lay back down, cradling her body with his as they fell asleep together as a newly-engaged couple.

  The End

  Holly Rayner