of course you should buy whatever you need. But you already have enough baby clothes to stock Piccolini—”
“Most of those were presents,” she said defensively. “And you have to admit, their ‘I Heart NY’ T-shirts and jim-jams are beyond adorable.”
“The problem is, Natalie, you think everything is ‘beyond adorable.’ And then you buy it.”
“It’s our first baby, Rhys! A baby requires a lot of...things. And I did offer to work with you,” she added, “to help out and earn a bit of extra money. I haven’t very much to do these days. But you s-said you don’t need my h-help.”
Then she erupted into tears.
Rhys stood and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “My darling Nat,” he said into her hair, “you’re being ridiculous. I need you...and I always will. You’re my wife, my everything. And you’re having our child. So there’s no need for you to work at Dashwood and James, or anywhere. Unless you want to, of course.”
“It isn’t about having a job, Rhys. I just want to feel...needed. I feel like an afterthought where you’re concerned, like I have no place in your life.”
He took his finger and tilted her tear-blotched face up to his. “You have the first place in my life,” he told her, his words at once gruff and firm. “And you always will.”
She sniffled and blinked her tear-matted lashes. “Really?”
“Really.” He kissed her and draped his arm around her shoulders. “Now that’s settled, I’m knackered. Let’s go to bed.”
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