Netflix and chill

Chapter 11

Tears of joy welled up in my eyes as I looked at my two best friends, now chosen as the godmothers to my unborn child. In that moment, I knew that my child would be surrounded by an abundance of love, laughter, and unwavering support. The support of it's mother and godmother's. With or without it's father.

Together, my friends and I would navigate the beautiful journey of parenthood, with Natalie and Laila by my side, guiding, nurturing, and showering my child with their unique influences. And as for the aunt title, well, we would figure it out as a united front, just as we always had. An idea suddenly popped up in my head but I decided to leave it for then.

I placed my hands on my belly once more, trying to feel even if the slightest hint that there was a life in there but there was nothing as expected. I whispered, "You are so loved already, little one. You will have two extraordinary godmothers who will shape your life in the most incredible ways."

The sun began to set as we made our way back to my apartment, the anticipation of an evening filled with horror movies and laughter filling the air. Natalie and Laila carried bags of snacks and drinks, ready to indulge in the ultimate movie night. As we settled onto the couch, cushions arranged in a cozy nest, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. This was the perfect way to spend an evening with my two best friends.

The room was adorned with dimmed lights, creating an atmosphere that was both cozy and eerie. We had chosen a selection of classic horror movies, knowing well that the screams and jumps would only add to the thrill of the night. As the first movie began, I nestled into the corner of the couch.

Natalie, poured a glass of wine for herself, while Laila opted for a chilled bottle of beer. They clinked their glasses together, their laughter filling the room. I looked at them longingly, feeling a pang of envy. I wanted to join in on the fun, to feel the cold wine against my lips. But just as I reached for a bottle, Laila's gentle voice interrupted my intention.

"Emma, I don't think you should have any alcohol in your condition," Laila said, concern etched on her face.

I pouted, feeling a bit childish in that moment. "Come on, Laila. A little sip won't hurt. You know I can't resist wine," I pleaded, my eyes searching hers for a hint of compromise.

Natalie chimed in, her tone lighthearted but firm. "You know Laila's right, Em. It's best to avoid alcohol during pregnancy. We want the little one to have the best start in life, don't we?"

I sighed, realizing that they were only looking out for me and my baby's well-being. Reluctantly, I placed the bottle back on the table. "Fine, fine. You win," I conceded, a playful pout still lingering on my lips.

Natalie grinned, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Hey, don't worry, Em. I've got something even better for you." She reached into the bag of goodies and pulled out a carton of fresh juice, holding it up triumphantly.

I couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, appreciating her effort to make me feel included. "Thank you, Nat. You always know how to brighten the mood."

With the movie playing in the background, we settled into a rhythm of laughter, screams, and shared snacks. The room resounded with our banter, each jump scare met with a chorus of high-pitched shrieks that dissolved into peals of laughter. It was in these moments that I felt truly blessed, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and the anticipation of motherhood.

As the night wore on, our laughter echoed through the apartment, intertwining with the eerie sounds emanating from the movie. We basked in each other's company, cherishing the bond that had grown stronger over the years.

Alexander.

As I stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of home greeted me. The day had been long, filled with endless meetings and demands on my art and business life, leaving me yearning for a break from it all, the stress had become tiring and it began to leave me wishing for longer nights and shorter days. But as I crossed the threshold, I was met by the warm smile of my maid, Maria, who stood by the door, her hands clasped together.

"Good evening, Mr. Alexander," Maria said, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation. "Your mother is waiting for you at the dinner table."

A wave of displeasure washed over me. The last thing I needed was to engage in polite conversations over a meal. The tension between my mother and me had grown over the years, fueled by our conflicting ambitions and inherent differences. The thought of spending an entire evening with her was suffocating.

Ignoring Maria's words, I walked past the dining room without giving even a fleeting glance at the woman seated there waiting for me. My footsteps carried me up the grand staircase, each step echoing with my growing frustration. I sought refuge in my room.

The familiar sight of my room offered me a momentary respite. My room was adorned with mahogany furniture, luxurious fabrics, and a breathtaking view of the sprawling cityscape beyond. As expected I made the aesthetic all black with a few tints of brown. But no matter how lavish, it couldn't shield me from the troubles that awaited me downstairs.

As I closed the door behind me, I released a heavy sigh, shedding the weight of the day's burdens. My mind was consumed by thoughts as I quickly prepped myself for an upcoming bath, an opportunity to immerse myself in tranquility and wash away the stress accumulated throughout the day.

The bathroom, an oasis of marble and gold, beckoned to me with its promise of solitude. The gentle sound of water cascading into the sunken tub filled the quiet room, soothing my restless mind. I undressed, allowing the cool air to embrace my skin as I stepped into the warm embrace of the water.