Chapter 33

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Y'all it took me so long to realize this but I never actually edited this chapter so it might not make some sense and I forgot to mention that Sophia's fathers body wasn't in the casket at the funeral. Or maybe I did, I'm not sure and I don't want to read the whole thing and fix my mistakes (sorry but we running low quality over here).

He was already buried but there is kind of an explanation for my whole idea, the point of the funeral was so that she was there, it was so people had time to grieve and heal before the final goodbye, hence funeral even though no dead body was there. My idea came from a similar funeral, not wanting guests last look at this person to be a face pale and lifeless with injuries all over.

If you read my explanation then thank you, I'm sorry that I'm lazy, I'm sorry I suck at paying attention, and have a nice day.

Three months later:

Today was my fathers funeral am I was yet to land, I was anxious, sad, and happy all at the same time.

I would see my family for the first time in the last few months, some longer periods then others, I was anxious for them to meet Isiah, I was sad because it was my dads funeral and I was worried because we were going to be late.

Nonna specifically made it today so we could come, I and she herself didn't like the idea of Isiah coming out of the house before he made a month and last month was because there was a storm and also precaution seeing as his immune system was pretty weak still, he could catch a fever in a flick of a wrist and I have a big family.

We land in ten minutes, it would take us a while to get to the venue and then I had to deal with Nonna, she did not like people who were late and she would have my head but the baby would keep that anger in and give me time to run away.

Leaning forwards from my seat on the ground to look into the mirror, before I could finish applying my makeup the baby started crying.

"Son of a bitch" I swore as the nude lipstick went half way across my cheek "VASILY" I shout not noticing him behind me

He nodded walking away and coming back, sitting on the chair next to me, Isiah was getting better at grabbing things, his bright smiles as he grabbed the eyeliner from the makeup bag next to him, his arms moving up and down.

I smile at him leaving him to wave the product around, there would only be a problem if he tried to put it in his mouth, I don't need that in his mouth but I also didn't want to hear him cry when I take it away.

Fixing the lipstick and trying to get the one on my cheek off, succeeded.

I reached up, Isiah holding his arms out and grabbing onto me I put him in my lap watching as he pulled at the top of my romper, his crying starting back up and his hand slapping my boob.

After three months he still wouldn't take the bottle, well actually he would but he likes skin to skin contact, reminds me of Vasily, you needed to take your shirt off and hold him against you to give him the bottle or else he stubbornly would cry.

Vasily still sitting there staring at my boobs and I just shake my head.

"Why do you always look, it's nothing you haven't seen already, go do something else" I groan slapping his leg and push it away as he chuckled

"I enjoy the view" he caressed my cheek and was moving it down pass my neck when I slapped his hand away

"Stop it" I groan.

Two words. Sexual frustration. But I can't get nothing with this little brat that I love very much, and it is very much true that with kids comes less sex especially when there are no babysitters or the child cry's day and night with the babysitter and is basically connected to your hip twenty four seven.

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