Landry immediately gets started on dinner, pulling out cheese, cream, and pasta as I pull up a stool at the small kitchen island. I think he’s going to make carbonara! 'The papers, go and get the papers,' Beatrix reminds me. 'Oh! Right, thank you for reminding me,' I say as I get back up and go and grab the papers from my bag. 'It’s what I’m here for,' she says casually. I walk over to Landry, smiling up at him while I hold the papers firmly in my hand. “Whatcha got there?” He asks, glancing over at me as he puts of pot of water on to boil. “Well, I guess we were both thinking of each other today because I did something for you too,” I say with nervous excitement. “What did you do?” Landry asks eagerly, so, instead of building the moment I hand him the papers. Landry takes them and slowly begins reading, his eyes growing wider and wider as a million emotions swirl inside him. “This… this is an application to pastry school…” “I know!” I say proudly, “I did some research, and wit

“Jennifer is going to love this!” Cheers Beatrix excitedly from the passenger seat. I glance over, my mind once again trying to reconcile that while I am looking at the body of Jennifer, it’s not Jennifer in control. The main thing driving that fact home is the glowing aquamarine eyes looking out the windshield. The other is the mannerisms. Beatrix is exuberant and uses a lot of big gestures, whereas Jennifer is more delicate and demure, except for when she’s excited. “Is she still sleeping?” I ask as I drive towards the packhouse. “Like a baby,” she giggles, rubbing her belly affectionately, “I’ll start to wake her up once we get there. I don’t want to risk spoiling the surprise.” “I really appreciate you helping me surprise her like this, and I think she’ll love how you’ve dressed her today,” I say graciously. “Well, I have known her since conception. I know what she likes,” she says proudly. Beatrix, Matthan, and I have been planning today very carefully without letting Jennif

I’ve experienced all types of fear in my life, but none of them will ever compare to the fear I am feeling right now. Not just my own, but the fear coming from the woman who has brought me nothing but love. The level of helplessness I feel seeing Jennifer laid out on a surgical table as Doctor Johnson cuts into her belly is unbearable, but it’s nothing compared to what Jennifer is going through. I do my best to block out the sounds of the machines and the back and forth of the doctors and nurses and just focus on Jennifer and try to get her to focus on me. I squeeze her hand and kiss her forehead and feel extra gratitude that there is a screen up to stop us from seeing what they are doing to her body. I don’t want to see them cut into her, and she shouldn’t have to see it either. I know all she can feel is some pressure, but it’s not painful, so that’s good. “You’re doing so good,” I say reassuringly, keeping my arm around her head so she can focus on my scent and not the other smel