Amelia's eyes widen at the stone mansion in front if us.

She looked out of place in my Tesla and now she looks even more out of place at the house.

"This is our home?" She reaches out to touch the dark mahogany door. "It's beautiful." She breathes after opening the door.

Taking her through the hourse room by room im pracically assulted by memories.

_

I'm in awe of the sight of me.

"You are a sight for sore eyes." I mutter, leaning against the counter.

Amelia screams and throws the wooden spoon she was cooking with at me. Fortunately, it misses and hits the wall. Splattering red tomato sauce on the yellow paint.

"Cameron!" She screeches, realizing it's me. "Don't sneak up on my like that."

I don't even try to stop my laughter.

"Cameron! It's not gonna be funny when I go into preterm labour."

I pull her to me before resting my hands on her protruding stomach. "That won't happen." I chuckle.

"Cameron! Preterm labour is serious."

"There will be no coming early, will there Theodore?"

Light pressure presses against my palm before it disappears.

"Good boy." I say before giving Amelia's stomach a quick kiss.

-

"I finally get it." After tossing the rest of the clothes into the dryer I turn to my wife.

She leaning against the doorway of our laundry room, looking smug.

"Get what?"

"Why men get turned on seeing women in the kitchen." She grins, stepping forward. "Seeing you in here..." She bites her lip and slowly drags her eyes up and down my body.

My heart starts to race a bit more when she steps forward.

"Oh really?" I question grinning.

"Really." Is all she says before literally jumping me.

-

"What's happening in here?"

Wide-eyed eyed and covered in paint Amelia turns to me. "You're not supposed to be here!" She shouts, obviously shocked considering I was supposed to be out of town this week.

The guest bedroom directly across the hall from our room is torn apart, paint tarps cover the carpet, and there are cans of paint scattered through the room.

"My trip was canceled." I look at one of the previously tan walls now primed white. "Didn't like the guest room anymore?"

"Oh, um," She sets the paint roller down and wipes her hands down her jeans. "Okay, you weren't supposed to be here yet."

"Baby," I laugh at how nervous she looks. "It okay that you didn't like guestroom." I reach for the roller she set down. "I just wish you'd have waited for me to help." What color are you wanting for this room?"

"I was thinking grey..." She says slowly,looking down. "Or a really light pink."

"Pink?" I crinkle my nose. "Is that the best color for a guest room?"

She nervously wrings her hands.

"Amelia?" She's never acted like this before.

She looks up at me, her eyes full with vulnerability. She takes a few steps forward and grabs my hands. "Hey, really, I don't care that you want to redo the guest room. Babe, if you want to redo all the rooms, I'll help you."

"It doesn't have to be a guest room." She whispers and moving my hands to rest on her flat stomach. "Maybe a nursery?"

My hands jolt as my eyes rapidly move from her face to her stomach. She eyes shine bright when she realizes I've made the connection.

"Really?" My voice trembles with excitement. "You're having my baby?"

She nods and I fall to my knees, a loud thump ringing through the empty room.

"Hey, little one." I whisper, my shaking fingers struggling to lift Amelia's shirt. She grabs it and pulls it up for me, quickly wiping away a tear when I look up to thank her. "Daddy is so," my voice breaks. "So happy."

-

"And, um, this last room is our room."

Dazed, Amelia looks around the room, stopping when she sees the picture hanging over the bed. It's was one of my favorite of our wedding photos.

My hands rest in her neck, angling her head at me. She's laughing at a dirty quip I made and I'm staring down at her, completely mesmerized. You will forever be my always. Is the quote she had me paint above the picture.

After a few minutes she starts to nervously fiddle with her fingers.

"So-"

"Cameron,"

We both start at the same time.

"You can go." I smile softly at her, hoping to calm her nerves.

"Okay, um, I know you're my husband. And as my husband you have..." She pauses, her whole face is flushed. "Rights."

And the whole room is not filled with not nervous tension but awkward tension.

"And, and I-"

"Amelia," I interrupt her spiel. "You need to just talk to me, okay? Honesty is the best thing right now." I grab her hands and make her look up at me. "Talk to me."

"Well we're married so you have rights to make certain demands." I drop her hands quickly, understanding where she's going and she winces. "Now you're angry."

"I'm not angry." I say slowly, before blowing out a breath. "Maybe a little, but not because of that." She frowns, confusion taking over her face. "I am frustrated that you feel our marriage is based on me demanding rights because it not."

"I'm sure it's not. I'm sorry." She reaches forward and wraps her arms around me. We both stiffen before she quickly pulls back. "Cameron, I realize I keep judging you because I'm scared." She acknowledges still frowning. "I'm really gonna try though, I promise."

"I'm not mad." I tell her honestly. "Maybe a little hurt but that's not your fault. Okay?" I reach for her hands and she lets me hold them. "I'm promise, as long as your honest with your feelings."

She nods in agreement and when she moves to look at the bathroom I grab my phone and text Meghan.

"Here now! Need help. Clean main guest room."