Rightfully His

33.

All rights reserved...@brightlights101

It had been a rough couple of days. Everyone was still on edge. There was no answers in sight. No one felt safe.

Andrea tried to keep herself busy by helping out at the restaurant. Matteo wanted her to remain home, not only was he concerned about her walking around exposed to any threats, she had been experiencing Braxton Hicks's. All the more reason to keep her home.

But she felt lost. And the least he could do was allow her this freedom.

Her home and all her belongings were gone. There was nothing left. Nothing to go back to. She felt that her very existence was wiped gone. Despite Matteo's home, it never felt like hers. It was a bachelors pad, not a place you'd expect to have Sunday dinners held.

She didn't know what to do. And to make matters worse, she knew she'd be delivering soon. She wasn't ready. Not even the slightest. It was at the worst possible timing.

She sat behind the welcoming booth upfront at the doors, greeting people and showing them to their tables. It required a lot less movement to everyone's agreement.

The restaurant had become a revolving door. People were constantly swarming in. It was the busiest they had ever seen it come to. They were in high demand.

Hours went by when Andrea decided to call it early in the evening. She hugged her father, mother and the staff as if she was going on a long journey. But these days, saying goodbye to those who mean everything to you meant more nowadays.

Being in complete discomfort, one of Matteo's several, not important men drove her home. The shear tightness that wraps like a band across her abdomen is was enough reason to feel incapacitated.

The man parks her car inside the garage, helping her step out and showing himself the back door to replace himself with another man to set up post.

Andrea walks into the foyer, slipping her shoes off and hanging her belongings.

"Matteo! I'm home," she announces, waddling to the couch in the living room and plopping into the soft and plush cushions.

"You're home early," Matteo walks into the room, chuckling as he noticed her position, sprawled onto her back.

"If my bump wasn't so massive, I'd be giving you a cold glare," she mutters tiredly.

"Are you hungry?" He asks.

"Very much so," she said with a whine.

"Try and sit yourself up, I'll bring the plate. Want anything to drink?"

"Ooo, you wanna know what sounds good?" She hummed. "Chocolate milk," she rubbed her stomach in imaginary satisfaction. "I'd like a very big glass of chocolate milk, please."

"You got it," he laughs.

With all her might Andrea lunged forward after the fifth attempt to sit herself up. She positioned herself the best she could that took the pressure off her back and bladder.

Matteo came in with a plate and her requested beverage. Her face brightened at the food. Ugo was an amazing chef, not like she'd ever say that to her mother, but Ugo was extraordinary. All she craved was his meals, there was something about them that just satisfied her cravings.

Matteo places her chocolate milk on the small table in front of them. He hands her her plate which she then places on her mountain of a stomach. It now served a purpose. It was her own built in table.

Matteo was in complete awe of how much her stomach had grown within just a month. And as he watched her face scrunch in mild discomfort while eating, his nerves went haywire. They were much closer than they thought and Matteo just realized that time was ticking.