She frowns like a child who's just been told playtime is over, but she gets over it quickly enough when I start by massaging her shoulders. I wash her arms and breasts and slide my soapy fingers between her legs, to which she reacts with a soft moan. A side effect of the hormones, I tell myself. But when I reach her belly, splaying my palm across the small curve taking shape there, it hits me unexpectedly.

We are making a human together. A tiny human that will have her qualities and mine. It chokes me up unexpectedly, and I hope she can’t see it. This is just the natural order of things. This is what we were supposed to do as husband and wife. But right now, I feel oddly... proud. And content.

"You're thinking about how you impregnated me, aren't you?" She rolls her eyes.

"It was quite the accomplishment," I remark without reservation.

"It's biology, Santiago."

"And the De La Rosa virility," I argue.

Her smile fades as her palms come to rest on my forearms. "What will happen if this baby is a girl?"

"Then we will have a daughter," I answer, not understanding her point.

"But it won't be the same as a son." Sadness tinges her voice.

"Do you want a boy?" I furrow my brows.

"No, that's not what I'm saying," she huffs. "I'm saying you do."

"I want a boy," I agree. "We will need male heirs, certainly. But I want girls too. A mixture would be good."

Her eyes widen. "How many babies do you think we're going to have?"

"As many as I can put inside you."

She does not look amused as she shakes her head. "I'm not a baby factory."

"I know. But you have to admit it isn't a chore to make them."

"Make them, no. Carrying them around for nine months and raising them? Yes, that will be a lot of work."

"We'll have help," I assure her. "Antonia—"

"Santiago." She traces her fingers over my lips, quieting me. "Let's just get through one baby at a time, okay?"

I shrug, and she seems to let the issue go, for now. We wash off beneath the spray, and then towel off and brush our teeth at the sinks. The entire ritual is oddly domestic, and I feel a suffocating weight on my chest, like I need to leave. To escape for a while. But then Ivy ruins it all with one request.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asks. "For at least a little while."

"Okay."

She pauses to look at me like she doesn't believe me. "Okay?"

"Don't make a big deal of it."