Chapter 63 NEW MOMMY?

Chapter 63 NEW MOMMY?
After a month of living in a literal bubble of peace, it was time to face reality.
The honeymoon was a 10/10 experience—no notes. We spent four weeks in Lake Como and the Maldives, basically becoming professional loungers. My skin was glowing, my hair was sun-kissed, and I hadn't thought about a family scandal in thirty whole days. It was the most peaceful I’ve ever felt without the trauma attached.
But the second our private jet touched down back home, the "real world" hit us like a bucket of ice water.
We weren't even through the front door of my mom’s estate for the "Welcome Home" brunch. I was wearing a breezy white sundress and some flat sandals, feeling totally relaxed. Rowan was next to me, looking like a literal model in a linen shirt, carrying a bag of gifts for everyone.
"We’re back!" I yelled as we walked into the sunroom.
My sisters, Rose and Rosa, didn't even say "hi" first. They just stood up from the brunch table and stared at me like they were trying to solve a math equation.
"Wait," Rose said, squinting her eyes. "Althea. Why is your face so… round?"
I paused, my hand halfway to a croissant. "Excuse me? I literally just got back from a month of eating pasta and gelato. Of course my face is round. It’s called being happy."
Rosa walked over and circled me like a shark. "No, it’s a 'glow.' A very specific kind of glow. And you’re wearing a loose dress. A very loose, flowy dress."
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. "It’s a sundress, Rosa. It’s eighty degrees outside."
"Sure, Jan," Rose smirked, taking a sip of her mimosa. "So, are we looking at a 'Little Simmons' or a 'Little Pierce'? Because I need to know if I should start looking at designer baby strollers."
Rowan laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Guys, chill. We’ve been home for five minutes. Can we at least sit down before you start the pregnancy rumors?"
"We aren't starting rumors," my mom, Isabella, said as she walked in, looking as sharp as ever in a silk suit. She walked over, kissed my cheek, and then—I kid you not—her eyes dropped straight to my stomach for a micro-second. "We are simply observing. You do look… radiant, Althea. Very healthy."
"Healthy is just another word for 'pregnant' in this house, isn't it?" I groaned, finally sitting down.
"I’m just saying," Eleanor added, appearing from the hallway with the baby (the real one!) in her arms. She looked so much softer now, like the whole Alan drama had actually humanized her. "The timing would be perfect. A new baby to grow up with her aunt. They could be best friends."
I looked at Rowan. He was busy piling eggs onto his plate, looking way too amused by all of this.
"Don't look at me," he held up his hands. "I'm just the husband. I follow her lead."
"Traitor," I whispered.
About halfway through brunch, my mom signaled to the server. "Bring Althea a glass of the vintage champagne. We need to toast to their return."
I opened my mouth to say yes, but then I remembered that the flight back had been super long and my stomach was feeling a little acidic from all the coffee I’d drank on the plane.
"Actually," I said, "can I just have a sparkling water with lime? My stomach is kind of doing backflips today."
The entire table went silent.
Rose dropped her fork. Rosa gasped. My mom and Eleanor exchanged a look that said, “Bingo.”
"Aha!" Rose pointed at me. "Your stomach is upset? At 11:00 AM? That is literally textbook morning sickness, Althea! Give it up! How many weeks?"
"I am not having morning sickness!" I yelled, half-laughing and half-annoyed. "I have jet lag! And I drank like four espressos at the airport! My stomach is just being a hater, okay?"
"That’s exactly what someone who is six weeks along would say," Rosa teased. "Next thing you know, you’ll be craving pickles and peanut butter."
"I hate pickles," I reminded her.
"Pregnancy changes your palette, babe," Rose winked. "Just admit it. You’re glowing, you’re skipping the bubbles, and you’re wearing a tent. The math is mathing."
Later that afternoon, after we finally escaped the "Inquisition Brunch," Rowan and I were in our new house, unpacking our suitcases. It was quiet, and the house felt huge and empty in a way it hadn't before.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at a photo of us from the wedding. "Everyone is obsessed with me being pregnant, Rowan. Like, actually obsessed. Did you see the way Eleanor was looking at my waist? It was creepy."
Rowan sat down next to me, pulling me into his lap. "They’re just excited, Althea. After all the dark stuff we went through, everyone wants a reason to celebrate something pure. A baby is like the ultimate 'new beginning.'"
I sighed, leaning my head on his shoulder. "I know. And a part of me gets it. But I also just got my life back. I want to be us for a while. I want to start my business. I want to go on dates where I can actually drink wine without my sisters calling a press conference."
Rowan kissed my temple. "Then that’s what we’ll do. We aren't on anyone else’s timeline. If we want a baby in a year, or five years, or never—that’s up to us. My mom and your mom can speculate all they want, but they don't get a vote."
"You say that now," I laughed, "but I saw you looking at those tiny baby sneakers in the airport gift shop."
Rowan turned a little red. "Okay, fine. They were cute! They were like the size of my thumb, Althea. How could I not look?"
"See!" I shoved him playfully. "You’re part of the problem!"
"I'm not part of the problem," he grinned, pulling me closer. "I'm just saying, whenever you're ready, I'm ready. But until then, I'm perfectly happy just being 'Honeymoon Rowan.'"

I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram. I had posted a photo of us on the beach from the last day of the trip. I scrolled down to the comments, and I literally screamed.
Theo: Is that a bump I see or just a very expensive burrito? Talk to me, bestie! 🤰✨
Random Follower 1: The glow is hitting different. She’s definitely expecting.
Random Follower 2: Simmons-Pierce baby loading... 10%... ⏳❤️
"Even Theo is doing it!" I showed the screen to Rowan. "I can't even post a vacation photo without people checking for a bump. I’m going to have to start wearing corsets just to prove a point."
Rowan took the phone out of my hand and tossed it onto the bed. "Or, you could just ignore them. Let them wonder. It’s more fun that way."
I looked at him, and for a second, I thought about what it would actually be like. A little girl with his eyes, or a little boy with my mom’s attitude (heaven help us). It wasn't a scary thought anymore. It was just… a future thought.
"You're right," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Let them talk. I’ve spent enough time worrying about what people think. From now on, the only people who know the truth about us… is us."
"Exactly," Rowan whispered.
We stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying the quiet of our new home. No villains, no cameras, no fake identities. Just a husband, a wife, and a whole lot of empty rooms that we’d fill whenever we were ready.
The "Simmons-Pierce" era was officially home. And honestly? Even with the annoying pregnancy questions, it was the best era yet.