Chapter 60 - Movie Night

Rosie

Well, I was now a graduate, or should I say I’d soon be a graduate once the actual ceremony happened? I still couldn’t believe I’d been able to juggle everything and still somehow managed to graduate with decent marks.

If it were possible to smash this achievement right in my parents’ faces, I could vividly imagine their reaction—their frowns deepening when they saw I didn’t come out with first-class honors but instead second-class upper division. But who cares... Second class upper was still something.

It was still an achievement. It was still a degree that I’d earned through blood, sweat, tears, and sheer stubborn determination to prove that I was worth something.

I blinked, focusing on the task at hand. The house was mostly empty right now with Marcus and Elena out handling pack business and Maya off doing whatever Maya did during the day. I wanted to bake something sweet before Jude came home and wanted to surprise him with freshly baked goods.

I just started gathering ingredients from the kitchen cabinets when I heard the front door open and close. Jude appeared moments later, his hair slightly windswept, and he smiled that soft, gentle smile he reserved just for me before crossing the space between us and pecking my forehead tenderly.

"I’ll just go take a quick shower and change," he murmured against my skin before disappearing down the hallway.

I continued pulling out flour, sugar, and eggs while humming softly to myself, feeling elated to do something.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" Jude asked a few minutes later, coming around to the kitchen island while his eyes scanned over all the ingredients I placed on the counter.

I shrugged, still not entirely decided on what I was craving. "I’m not sure yet. I’m thinking maybe a cake or maybe cookies..." I responded while sifting the flour to make sure there were no lumps. "Which one do you think would be best?" I shot him a questioning look while rubbing the bridge of my nose because I felt it itch slightly.

"Any of them would be perfect," he responded, moving closer. "But let me help you."

And then in one swift motion he picked me up completely off the ground, and I gasped in shock from the abruptness of it, my hands instinctively grabbing his shoulders for balance.

"Jude!" I chided, laughing while he smiled.

"Doctor’s orders, sweetheart," he said. "No straining yourself or standing on your feet for extended periods." Then he placed me carefully on the kitchen counter.

It warmed my heart, made it swell and ache in my chest, and all the little things he did constantly. Always overprotective, always treating me like a delicate being. Well, was I complaining about this treatment? Absolutely not. I loved being treated like this, loved being cherished and cared for.

I didn’t think pregnancy came with perks like having your mate wait on you hand and foot, but apparently it did. Maybe it was because I’d known I was pregnant for a few weeks now that I’d finally noticed my stomach had been protruding more noticeably. It wasn’t like this before when the bump was barely visible. Maybe the baby was now showing itself properly, like, "Hey, Mama, I’m here and I’m growing." The thought made me smile and unconsciously rub my belly.

"But it’s just baking," I tried to argue weakly. "I’m not doing anything strenuous, Jude."

He pinned me with that gaze that meant no room for negotiation, and I slumped my shoulders in defeat.

The truth was I was going a bit stir-crazy with how little I was allowed to do lately. Maya had given me maternity leave from working at the café much earlier than necessary, insisting I needed to rest. Even doing basic things around the house, I was restricted and monitored constantly. My daily routine became repetitive: wake up, eat whatever carefully prepared meal was placed in front of me, watch films or read novels while lying down, sleep, then continue the same cycle all over again the next day.

After some back-and-forth discussion, we came to the conclusion that we’d bake a red velvet cake. Jude did most of the actual work while I sat perched on the counter talking, and he kept pausing in between steps to check on me. He looked up from whatever he was measuring or mixing to make sure I was comfortable, peck my lips or forehead sweetly, and drop pieces of chocolate bar into my mouth, then continue his work.

He even reprimanded me gently when I asked for the container of leftover cake batter so I could lick it.

When the cake finally came out of the oven, it looked perfect; we cut generous slices for ourselves and left the remaining cake in the main kitchen’s fridge for Marcus, Elena, and Maya to find when they came back later, along with a note saying they could help themselves.

Then we retreated to our private wing with Jude carrying me in his arms, bridal style, while somehow still managing to hold our plates of cake and glasses of cold milk carefully. I would never get tired of how strong he was and how effortlessly he could lift me.

He sat me down on the couch so gently. Then he dragged the footboard closer and set out our little dessert spread before disappearing briefly into the bedroom and returning with the blanket.

Movie night.

We cuddled close to each other on the couch with me tucked perfectly into his side and the blanket draped over both of us. We weren’t even really watching whatever was playing on the TV, too focused on enjoying each other’s presence and proximity, the comfortable silence between us filled only with the soft noise of the film filtering through the speakers.

As I stretched my hand out to take another bite of the cake, I noticed with dismay that the plate was empty. I nudged Jude’s shoulder to get his attention, and he immediately turned to look at me with those attentive eyes.

"Sweetheart?" he asked softly.

I pouted dramatically, staring down at the empty plate in my lap. "It’s finished," I mumbled.

The part 2 is coming soon

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