Chapter 18
530 Words
Months in: 7
"Later asshole," Jasmine says icily while holding up her middle finger. I watch from around the
corner with a small snicker as Troy swings the door shut behind her.
"I feel bad for Carl," I say knowing he'll have to deal with that for who knows how long until she
reaches her new boyfriend's house.
Troy laughs and picks me up bridal style.
"Me too, however, I am officially divorced and it's time to start our time together."
My heart melts at how sweet he can be.
In fact, we spend the next hour on the couch watching American idle and cuddling, which Is hard
when your stomach is the size of a basketball.
When a commerical comes on, I sit up straight and frown at Troy.
He sits up too and places a hand on my stomach as he often does since the baby is almost always
kicking.
"What is it?"
I turn the TV on mute and look to my newly proclaimed boyfriend seriously.
"We haven't named the baby."
Troy looks at me with surprise and then realization.
"Oh yeah. Well... What do you think we should name him?"
I think about all his kicking, the way we decorated his bedroom, and all the appointments we've
gone to to see the baby.
My mind keeps reeling back to the way we decorated the room and I suddenly remember the
movie Troy and I watched last night.
With a smile on my face, I give my idea with the up most confidence.
"We should name him Tarzan."
Troy is quiet for a moment before he errupts in laughter.
When he keeps laughing for longer than ten seconds, I cross my arms in a pout.
Why my boyfriend sees my position he turns back to normal with raised brows.
"You were serious?"
I nod. "Yeah. It's cool, unique, and it starts with the same letter as both of our names."
Realization dawns on Troy as he considers it for a minute before nodding.
"Tarzan? Tarzan... Ok. Tarzan it is."
I smile widely and kiss Troy happily.
"You can pick the middle name."
The rest of the day, we sit around watching movies since Troy decided I'm at the point where I
don't need to spend time in the gym anymore.
Around dinner time, I noticed that Tarzan was kicking Everytime I passed the fridge.
"What! You can't even see," I argue to my stomach.
With a sigh, I roll my eyes dramatically.
"It's the ice cream, isn't it? That sweet creamy cold Oreo delight... You're right. I NEED it."
Less than two minutes later, Troy comes into the kitchen to find me sitting on the floor with the
gallon bucket in my lap and the largest serving spoon I could find.
He pauses deadass in the middle of the kitchen to see me leaning against the bottom cabinets
with a guilty look on my face.
"Tarzan made me do it," I defend myself.
Troy just smiles and moves to sit down next me.
Surprisingly enough, he pulls me onto his lap and spoon feeds me the best taste on the planet.
I could get used to this.
- Writer
