Three Years Later
I squeezed the ball gown dress around my body, desperate to see my little bump. Promising to get married within three years while not being pregnant was a stupid thing to do.
Especially when I had a husband who was a bit too obsessed with expanding our family as if a three-year-old and a two-year-old weren’t enough already.
That’s right. Baby three was on its way.
After having the grand and perfect wedding ceremony I had always dreamed of, it was time for the reception—and to be honest, I was over it already.
Morning sickness had not been the kindest to me, and I needed some sleep.
The two little demons running circles around me weren’t of that much help either. Siena, who was three, and our youngest son, a little ball of energy named after his grandfather—Lucio, had not taken any naps for the day.
One would expect them to be quiet, but no—it was the complete opposite.
