If she did die, I’d be close behind her and I don’t particularly feel like committing suicide, not when we’re so close to our happily ever after. I smile, rubbing my hand over her stomach, imagining what it will look like swollen with my children. I’ve wanted her to get pregnant from the first moment I saw her. She’d be an amazing mother. For so many reasons it would take too long to list. The idea of something made from me growing inside her, tying us together in such a meaningful way, makes my heart thump painfully in my chest.
