The Luna Queen's Rebirth (Ellie and Dominic) novel Chapter 548

Chapter 548

Ellie’s POV

Two more months of campaigning came down to this: a cake, a bottle of champagne, and me pacing between the kitchen and the sofa because I couldn’t sit still, and neither could the baby. She’d been rolling around all night like it was her one purpose in life to make me feel like I was going to wet the skirt of the new dress I’d picked out just for tonight.

“Can you please sit down?” Sarah said without looking up from the frosting she was currently working over the second cake. “You’re making me nervous. I need to focus on these letters.”

“Sorry, but I can’t. The baby is currently using my bladder as a trampoline.”

Sarah snorted. “You named her accurately, then. Although I still think Clementine was the best choice.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to make another lap. Abigail appeared and stepped in my way, smiling, and guided me over to a seat at the kitchen table. I huffed, but obliged and sat, rubbing my lower back with a heavy sigh.

Sarah and Abigail had come over that morning to help me bake, mostly because I was eight days away from my due date and could hardly bend over enough to open the oven anymore. Dominic said that the staff could bake, but I wanted to do it myself.

Between the three of us, we had managed a lopsided but respectable cake. Chocolate layers with more chocolate frosting between. On the surface, Sarah had piped a shaky “CONGRATULATIONS, YOUR MAJESTY”. Abigail had bought a little set of plastic cake toppers that looked like crowns and sceptres.

It was Sarah’s idea to bake the second cake. I was too tired to protest at that point.

Abigail, leaving me at the table, walked over and grimaced. “Sorry you suck’?” she read aloud. “Is that really apppropriate?”

“Hey, he might still lose,” Sarah said. “We’ll need a backup cake that doesn’t say congratulations. Just in case.”

“If he doesn’t find it funny, at least we have cake.” I laughed, which made the baby kick harder. “Goddess,”I muttered, rubbing my belly. “I swear, I think she’s trying to make tonight about her.”

“You’ll tell us if you start having contractions, right?” Abigail asked from where she was standing at the counter, throwing together a simple fruit salad for the guests.

I shot her a look. “Don’t even say that. I am not giving birth tonight.”

“Nervous?” Sarah said.

“That would be putting it lightly,” I muttered. The pregnancy had gone smoothly so far, but I’d made the mistake of reading about other women’s delivery experiences online over the past week. Needless to say, I’d heard enough horror stories to last me a lifetime.

“You’re going to do great.” Lucas appeared in the doorway then, holding two bottles, one in each hand. One full of champagne, the other sparkling cider for me. I missed the taste of real champagne, I had to admit.

He set the bottles on the counter and walked over to me. There was a moment where neither of us knew what to say, a leftover awkwardness from a night neither of us talked about anymore. Then, he shook it off with a grin,

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Chapter 54

crouched to my level, and pulled me into a careful sideways hug.

“For what it’s worth,” he said into my hair, “I hope he wins.”

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“You can tell him that yourself.” I patted his arm and smiled as much as my raging bladder would allow.

At seven, we all crowded onto the two couches in the den. It was almost nine now, and Dominic had hardly said a word all night. He was perched beside me, leaning forward, one hand on my knee and the other fisted under his chin. He had hardly torn his eyes away from the TV all day, where the announcers were discussing the incoming election votes.

“They said the results would come in at nine,” Sarah said, checking her phone.

“It’s eight fifty-one,” Dominic said without even needing to check a clock.

Lucas quirked a brow. “Are you counting the seconds or something?”

“Can you blame me?” Dominic still didn’t look away from the screen. No one could blame him. My own heart had been racing all night, getting faster with each minute that ticked closer to nine.

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