Loser, Whatever!

I woke up cold. However, there was a warm something draped around my bulging waist. I turned so I would be facing him.

"Good morning." Oliver yawned. I smiled.

"Hello." I replied. He leaned in and kissed me, his bare chest pressing against mine.

"I love you." He whispered. "And you too." He planted a kiss on my swelling stomach.

There was a screech from the other room.

"I'll get Destry." Oliver volunteered and got out of bed.

"Don't go." I pleaded. He laughed.

"He won't stop unless someone gets him." He walked out of the room. I sighed, then rolled out of bed and put a bathrobe on. I walked out into the hall, only to be hit by a small expanse of squishy flesh.

"Hello Destry!" I cooed and pulled the two-year-old into my arms. He laughed and smiled. I loved it when he did that. "Let's get you some breakfast."

I walked into the kitchen, plopped Destry into his highchair and placed a handful of Cheerios into a bowl in front of him. He began picking them up, one by one, and putting them in his mouth. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around my large stomach.

"Three more months." Oliver whispered into my ear.

"I ca't wait to meet him either. Or her." I corrected myself. We stood mezmerized for a few moments as we watched Destry eat his breakfast. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I think I'll have some toast. Which I can handle." He answered. He placed two slices of break in the toaster, double checked the setting, and pressed the plunger.

A huge team of owls suddenly flew in the window and dropped a large parcel into the table in front of me. I think I knew what this was.

Oliver rushed to my side as I pulled the brown paper off the box, then opened the cardboard box. Inside, among many packing peanuts, was a thick, hardcover book. The title on the front depicted a large, dark circle in the middle of a star-studded sky. The title, in elaborate cursive, was 'The Purpose.' The author was Bridgette Wood.

"It came!" Oliver exclaimed as he pulled me back into his arms and kissed me.

"I can't believe it's published!" I was so excited. I flipped through the 400 pages and new-book-smell filled the room.

"I told you it was a good story." Oliver reminded me.

"But it was so short back then." I pointed out.

"Expanding on it was a good idea." He commented.

"A lot of expanding." I thought of those long nights I had spent elaborating on my story, and back then I was very pregnant with Destry.

The toast popped and Oliver put them on a plate, buttered them and brought them back to the table. I took a piece and bit into it.

"Mama!" Destry shrieked. I put the toast down as he spread his arms out to me. I picked him up again.

"Ugh. You're getting heavy, Destry!" I pointed out. "Especially with this one as well." I placed a hand on my belly.

"Just wait until it's born." Oliver kissed me and ate his toast.

"Something tells me my parents will be here soon. We should get dressed." My parents had promised to coem by as soon as the book was finished.

Oliver took Destry as I headed back down the hall to get changed. He took Destry back into the nursery to change him. Within moments, he was back at my side.

"When did they say they were coming?" He asked as he buttoned up a dark blue dress shirt.

"I'm not sure. Probably around 10:30. That was when they came last time." I answered and pulled a pair of jeans on. I found a white tank top, pulled it over my head and put a white, long-sleeved blouse on overtop. Oliver put a pair of black, baggy jeans on.

Destry ran in and jumped into Oliver's outstretched arms. The doorbell rang.

"That would be them." I said. Oliver shrugged his shoulders I walked down the hal and opened the front door.

"Oh, Bridgette! We're so proud!" My mother came in and pulled me into a hug. I definitely preferred Oliver's hugs.

"Congratulations, honey." My dad hugged me in turn, the, begrudgingly, shook Oliver's hand.

"Come to Grandma, Destry!" My mom cooed and Oliver handed Destry to her.

"Wow, have you grown again, Kurt?" I asked. The top of his head was now almost at my shoulders.

"Probably." He shrugged his shoulder. Ah, the tween years. Those were always the hardest.

"Why don't you come in?" I said and stepped aside so my family could enter the house.

I walked back into the kitchen and pulled another copy of my book out of the big box. They had sent five copies.

"Here, Dad. I want you to have this." I said and handed the book to him.

"This is really an honour, Bridgette. We're so proud." He said and patted my growing stomach. I had to admit, this was a bit more awkward than when Oliver caressed his child that lay inside.

"I'm so glad. You have to read it now." I smiled. I had refused to let them read the copy until it was finished.

I headed into the kitchen to get some snacks. Oliver followed.

"Oh!" I said and my hands flew to my stomach. Luckily, it was only me and Oliver.

"What's up?" He asked, concerned. He placed his hand on my belly as well, and wrapped the other one arouns my shouldes.

"I think it just kicked." I said. Sure enough, another one came and Oliver felt it too. He smiled and kissed me yet again.

I keep thinking I'll wake up and I'll have gone back to my life as a total loser. No friends except for my Muggle neighbor and totally depressed.

But it actually happened. I'm married to a guy I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams. WIth a child I loved with all I had that wasn't already Oliver's and and another one on the way.

Sure, my parents weren't as supportive as they could have been, but that didn't matter anymore.

I averted my gaze to the mini trophies on a shelf on the wall. Four World Cup trophies. They couldn't let you keep the actual World Cup, but they gave you a miniture one. Oliver had captained England to two of those trophies. I felt my chest swell with pride.

It felt like my life was only just starting after being asleep for so long. I clutched Oliver's hand that was draped around my shoulders and kissed it.

"I love you so much." I whispered.

"I love you more." He retorted. I smiled and turned my head to kiss him.