Being Mrs Scuderi

chapter twenty nine

Fabiana's Pov
I open my eyes to her breathing softly, fanning my face. She has the most beautiful nose and lips, and eyes. Everything about her is perfect. Her hand is clinging onto my arm. I sometimes can't believe that we're married and it's not pretend this time.  My phone vibrates on the nightstand making my heart thump because I don't want her awake. It's her birthday today and she deserves nothing but the best. I peel her hand off me so I can get up without waking her, planting a kiss on her forehead. God even her hair smells good. It amazes me that even after all those years she's still using the same hair conditioner. My phone vibrates again drawing my attention and I leave the room to answer it.

"Mrs Scuderi, I was calling to confirm your reservation," she says confusing me abit because of how early it is. I booked it for later in the evening. "Yes nothing has changed,"I say. I booked the entire restaurant because she deserves the best. That and the fact that I want to come clean to her. She'd never forgive me if I don't tell her knowing how relentless Verena is. She's obsessed with me and will stop at nothing and so will I, but nothing guarantees me the damage that she'll cause in the process.

I find Ella already crafting something with Mara. I like how happy she always is and I want it to stay that way. Haviana would be so proud. "Mama!"she says running to me hugging my legs. "I made mommy a card!"she says running again to get it from the counter, tiptoing in the process and I just watch her. "Baby, be careful,"I say as she runs back to me with it. It's so cute. She might have not been as accurate with the baby bump but she's a child. It won't make her self-conscious. I grab an apron and get to making breakfast while she eats her cereal waiting for her cookies in the oven.

"It's okay Mara I got it from here,"I say dismissing her. The oven timer goes off getting me off guard because I'm whisking the egg and flour mixture for pancakes. "I got it Mama!"she says startling me abit as to how she got off the high stool to the oven turning the knob.

"Ella how did you get off the stool?"

"Mommy taught me,"she says and I'm not sure that's something she should know how to do or not. When I'm done, she helps me set up the breakfast tray and we head to the room we slept in. I open the door cautiously with Ariella entering first shouting but the bed is empty. "Where mommy?" She asks pouting. I place the tray on the nightstand together with her cookies but she refuses to give me her card, like I'd take credit for it. I hear the toilet flush and decide to go check on her. I find her rinsing her face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes just the usual,"she says plastering a smile on her face. I help her dry her face because of how drained she looks from the puking. I decide to use my moisturizer on her face and she just wraps her arms around me letting me. I kiss her forehead once I'm done and lead her out.

"What's all this?"

"Happy Birthday mommy!" She says making her face light up. I help her back onto the bed covering her legs because she's seated upright placing a pillow behind her. She jumps on the bed eagerly giving her the card. I watch her reaction when she opens it letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding, when she opens her arms to her. They are so adorable.

"I love you baby, thank you,"

"do you love it? Mama and I made it,"she says making her turn to face me expectantly. She lies? When did that start? "Umm uhh yes hehe,"I say. I bring the breakfast tray and she just lights up again at the sight of food.

"I'm so lucky,"

"Happy birthday Bambina," I say and she's still smiling. "But mama, why is mommy a baby?"she asks making her laugh at how easily my eyes rolled. "You know what Ari, I think Mara needs help picking out a dress for you,"I say knowing she'd rather spend time picking out the most blue dress than here busting my ass with questions. I lead her out to her room where Mara is, picking out clothes and it's like I didn't even exist because of how fast her mood changed to being a storyteller. I walk back to her Abit nervous because of what happened last night.