Page 48 of Living for Truth (Broken Shelves #2)

Hannah

W e’ve officially made it to sixteen weeks, and I’m starting to show a little bit.

It’s not as obvious as it would be on a thinner person, but I know my body, and I can tell.

Morgan can too, apparently, because as I was showering this morning, his gaze was locked in on my stomach, and when I asked him what he was looking at, he hopped in the shower—still in his boxers–—and knelt to the floor to press tender kisses all along the swell of my stomach.

He proceeded to give me two orgasms to “show his appreciation for carrying our twins”—his words, not mine.

I’ve never made it this far into pregnancy before, and I had to look up if being extra horny was normal. It is, apparently, and I’m not complaining.

Morgan isn’t either.

I was never the one to initiate sex with Liam, but I don’t have that problem with Morgan.

He makes me feel confident, sexy, and safe.

As soon as I see Morgan walk in the door I have to give my vagina a scolding because it wants to be filled immediately.

If Aly isn’t home, I give in to my hormones and jump on him, sometimes we don’t even make it up the stairs.

One time, we were halfway up the stairs, and I couldn’t wait so he just fucked me right on the staircase.

When she is home, I have to stand in front of the freezer to cool myself off so I can function properly.

I swing between only wanting to eat salty snacks and only wanting to eat candy, but I haven’t had any strange cravings yet.

Today is Jake’s farewell, and he texted me to personally ask if I was going to be there. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go, but I couldn’t say no to him.

It’s been over four months, and I’m not excited to see my mom. I’m hoping I can avoid her as much as possible. There’s always a luncheon after the church meeting, and I plan on showing up long enough to say hi to Jake and then leave.

I told Morgan he doesn’t need to come, but he refuses to let me go by myself. Aly said she wanted to come because she’s never been to a church before, and she wants to see what it’s like, so she’s coming too.

I gave them a rundown of what a sacrament meeting entails, how someone will be passing around bread and water, and we aren’t allowed to take it because we aren’t worthy.

Aly and Morgan both think that’s a mean thing to do, and they aren’t wrong.

Dressed in a simple jersey swing dress and gladiator sandals, I’m pulling Aly’s hair into a french braid down her back. Her hair’s gotten long this summer, and she looks so grown up. It’s wild to think she starts school again in a few weeks.

“Your hair’s gotten so long,” I comment as I plait the strands together.

“Yeah…” Aly’s shoulders slump a little.

“Do you not like it long?”

Aly shrugs. “My mom told me girls look better with long hair so I’ve never cut mine more than a little bit.”

“Do you want to cut it short?”

“I think so. I like the way your hair looks. And sometimes my hair feels too heavy for my head,” she pauses, “Do you think I’d look good with short hair?”

“I think you would look beautiful with whatever length of hair you want. If you think your head would feel better with shorter hair, we can make an appointment to get it cut.” I finish up the braid and tie off the end, and Aly turns around and gives me a hug.

“Thank you, Hannah. I’ll think about it.”

Damn hormones. Every time she hugs me I almost burst into tears.

“You’re welcome, Aly. Do you want help picking out a dress?”

“No, I already picked one out.”

“Perfect. Your dad and I will be waiting here for you. We need to leave in twenty minutes, okay?”

“Okay!” She rushes up the stairs to get changed.

I sit on the couch and scroll through social media while I wait for my baby daddy and my future step-daughter to get ready.

Elli’s been posting about the tour, and I can see how happy she is in every picture. I briefly wonder if I look happier than I did before, so I scroll through some of the pictures I’ve taken recently on my phone.

I take “bumpdate” pictures every week, even though there’s not much of a bump yet. In the beginning, I wasn’t smiling in the pictures. Still scared these babies wouldn’t make it past a certain point, but in the last three weeks, my smile is slowly starting to show along with my belly.

I’m still extremely anxious I’ll miscarry, but that anxiety lessens at every new milestone.

Morgan’s been amazing about talking me through the steps of what would happen in worst-case scenarios.

He cooks or orders whatever I’m craving, he massages my feet every night, and helps me remember to take my prenatals.

I love him so much.

Morgan comes down dressed in pressed black dress pants and a crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.

Mmm. I’ve never found forearms attractive, but I want to lick his while he fucks me.

Woah! Calm down, girl. You’re headed to a family event.

“See something you like, Butterfly?” Morgan drawls while giving me a devastating smirk.

“Do you know how hot you look right now? It should be illegal to look that good in a white shirt.” I can feel my cheeks heating with embarrassment that I was caught ogling him.

“Well, it should be illegal to look that good in a simple green dress, but you look delicious.” He joins me on the couch and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Thank you,” I sigh, snuggling into him. I want to do this all day. Laze around with him and Aly. Not go to church or deal with my mother.

“Are you going to be okay today?” Morgan absently rubs a hand over my belly, as he always does when we’re cuddling. It’s like a magnet for him, he can’t help but touch it.

“I’ll be fine. I still haven’t decided if I want to tell my mom about the twins, though.”

“I’m making the executive decision we won’t. Not today, at least.”

“I feel like Jake deserves to know, and he leaves tomorrow. It would feel shitty telling him in a letter when we’ve known for over two months.”

Morgan nods. “That’s true. I guess if you think Jake can keep it to himself, you could tell him, but it’s completely up to you. I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m ready!” Aly comes down the stairs wearing a cute green dress that almost entirely matches mine.

“I love your dress, Aly. Are you okay with us matching? I won’t mind if you want to change.”

“No, I’m okay.”

She’s not thinking about this as hard as I am, so I’ll leave it be, but it makes me tear up a little bit.

Once we get to my parents’ church building, we usher inside and find an empty bench in the back away from the rest of my extended family. I was hoping to see Izzy, but Wes’s tour ended at the beginning of this month, and they helped Izzy move to San Marcos last week so she can start school soon.

Wes and Elli got engaged soon after they got back, and I’m hoping we can make it out to their wedding, once they’ve set a date.

Grandma and Grandpa Monson see us walking in, and Grandpa gives me a look that says he’ll want to meet Morgan and Aly later, making me more nervous than anything.

Grandpa wants all of his grandkids to get married and have babies, and he makes it known that is his goal.

He is constantly trying to set up the single grandkids with servers at restaurants, or members of the college ward he’s the patriarch over.

If he finds out someone over the age of twenty is single, he goes right into matchmaker mode.

I swear if it weren’t illegal to marry your cousin he’d set us up with our own relatives.

I scan the rows of familiar faces when a tap on my shoulder grabs my attention.

My cousin Talmage stands in the aisle with a sheepish grin. “Hey, Hannah. Good to see you. Can I snag this seat next to you? I don’t need Grandpa pointing out all of the single women the entire meeting.”

I chuckle because he totally would do that. “Sure.” I nudge Morgan. “Can we scoot over, please? ”

His eyes flit to Talmage and must deem him non-threatening, so he scoots himself and Aly over, and Talmage folds himself into the pew.

Morgan extends his hand. “I’m Morgan.”

“Talmage, Hannah’s cousin. Nice to meet you!” Talmage shakes his hand with more enthusiasm than I was expecting. It’s not like Talmage and I were super close growing up.

He’s two years older than me and always found sports more interesting than sitting around and chatting, which is what Emma, Elli, and I tended to do at family gatherings. We preferred to lock ourselves away in a basement bedroom rather than interact with everyone else.

“Are you just visiting Utah? I heard you were out in California,” I ask quietly as the prelude music starts.

“I was, I was helping with the summer fires, but I’m back for good. I work for the Springville Fire Department now.”

“That’s cool. I’m guessing from your earlier statement, there’s no rumored fiancée either?”

Talmage shakes his head.

I don’t get to ask any further questions because the meeting gets started, but color me curious about Talmage’s life.

I watch Aly and Morgan for their reactions to certain things during the meeting, and when the sacrament is passed to our row, Talmage looks at me, I shake my head, and he declines it as well.

Interesting.

I wonder what that’s about. Talmage has always been one of the golden boys of the family. I thought for sure he’d be married with a gaggle of kids by now, but I guess you never really know.

It’s none of my business, so there’s no way in hell I’d ever ask him. If he’s no longer in the church, good for him. I hope he knows he’s not the only one, though.

By the time the closing prayer giver says “amen,” I’m ready to get out of here. These benches are uncomfortable as hell. Aly looks bored out of her mind, and Morgan looks like he’s about to fall asleep. Even Talmage is scrolling through Instagram when I glance over at him.

Talmage gives me a quick “see you later” as he rushes out the door, and my little family follows quickly after.

I don’t want to go to the luncheon, but while we were sitting there, I had time to think.

Seeing Jake look less like a little boy and more like a man made me realize he’s grown up now.

For some reason I feel the need to tell him about the twins.

It would be unfair to tell him after he left he’s going to be an uncle and miss the first two years of his nieces’ lives.

We drive the short distance to my mom’s house, park down the street, and sit in the car for a minute while we wait for more people to get here. I don’t want to go in there and be yelled at as people are arriving. My mom won’t say anything with a crowd present .

Once I feel like there are enough people, we pile out of the car, and I brace myself for the inevitable chaos about to ensue.