Vogue | Tony Stark

SIXTY THREE - AN OFFER

"How're things going in here?"

Esté gently pushed open the door with her elbow, a homemade pastrami sandwich in one hand and a cold bottle of Diet Coke in the other.

Tony lifted the small mattress up from the floor and slipped it into the frame of the crib, sighing with slumped shoulders before dusting off his hands and turning to her with a smile.

"All done, piece of cake."

"Piece of cake? It took you three hours."

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, "Whatever, that was only because I couldn't find the little screws."

It was a hot summers day in mid July and the sun was relentlessly beating down across New York City. The air was thick at the best of times in the summer months but throwing being five and a half months pregnant into the mix made Estélla feel like she was on fire most of the time.

She'd been sitting in the garden in the shade all morning, swaying back and forth on a wooden porch swing with a book in her hand and the biggest glass of iced water she could carry. Tony spent most of his free time decorating the baby's nursery and building furniture for the room which in hindsight seemed fine, only he wasn't used to reading small instruction pamphlets and ciphering through plastic bags full of bolts and screws when he usually built things.

Still, he did it all without too much moaning. The room was light and airy with a huge open window in the centre, a nursing chair to the side with soft pillows and a cashmere blanket folded over the arm. The crib was white with a mobile hanging above it and the walls were painted a pale blue colour, clouds and hot air balloons embellishing the space.

There was a dresser and a changing station and a wardrobe already filled with tiny clothes. Aside from picking out the decor for the room, the only other part Esté played was organising their baby's closet. She'd spent hours splitting outfits into seasons and folding vests and sleep suits, stacking diapers into drawers and making sure they had absolutely everything they could possibly need, and then a little bit more.

"Here, you must be starving."

Tony wiped sweat from his brow with his wrist, nodding before grabbing the drink and chugging half of it.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said, one hand on her waist as he kissed her cheek before taking a bite of the sandwich, "How are you feeling?"

The first few months of Estélla's pregnancy had been unforgiving to say the least. Her morning sickness made it impossible for her to get anything done for at least half of her day and tiredness exhausted her by the middle of the afternoon. She didn't feel like herself, her hormones pulling her in every possible direction besides the one she wanted to go in, and a lack of being able to do the job that she loved so desperately only made her feel worse.

That being said, the second trimester had, so far, been a dream. The morning sickness had gone and she felt more energised, sleeping better and having less vivid dreams. Esté worked as much as she could, but never once pushed herself too far, always conscious about her health and well-being above getting a project finished or attending a shoot she maybe didn't need to oversee.

Tony would've moved heaven and earth for Estélla before she fell pregnant with his child, but after watching her begin to grow their baby, everything changed for him. He'd never really given pregnancy a second thought at any point in his life and none of his friends had ever had children of their own either, and so the entire experience was brand new.

He watched Estélla struggle through the first trimester. He watched her sob uncontrollably without reason, spend hours sitting on the bathroom floor with her head over the toilet bowl and lose days worth of sleep because she couldn't get comfortable.