Enemies To Lovers 22: Cuddles

Summer turned to autumn, and the temperature cooled a little. Joanna kept waiting for the first freezing Arctic wind, but it never came. Oranges continued to grow, only now they were Naval and Clementine rather than Valencia.

As the holiday season approached, Cara Cara oranges appeared. Joanna couldn't help but reflect on how much things had changed from the previous year. Last year, she and Jurgen had still been with his mother in Bavaria, and the war had still been going on. This year, she was married to Jurgen and living in Spain, with a baby on the way.

By next Christmas, they'd be the parents of an eight-month-old.

As hard as she tried, Joanna simply couldn't imagine herself as a mother and Jurgen as a father.

Lila came every month to check on Joanna and make sure her pregnancy was progressing normally, and one day in December, she brought a jelly-filled donut to share.

"It's called 'sufganiyot,'" she told Joanna. "My people eat it for Hanukkah to celebrate the miracle of the light."

Joanna recalled Hanukkah meals in the shtetl, the fried potato pancakes called 'latkes' that were served with sour cream and applesauce. The memory made her mouth water. She could almost taste them. She wondered whether Lila's family ate them as well. She glanced at Jurgen and knew she didn't dare ask.

On Christmas Eve, Jurgen lit the small oil lamp before leaving with his wife to attend Midnight Mass at the church. During his past months of attending mass, no one had suspected anything, or if they had, they hadn't said anything.

Joanna slipped a trusting hand into his own as they left their cabin. The sight of her gently rounded belly filled him with pride. Although his injuries had made him feel emasculated, the visible proof of his fertility did much to assuage that.

What would their child be like? Would he be a strong, sturdy boy ready to take on the world and restore pride to the Schiller name? Would she be a dainty little Fraulein with dimples and graceful mannerisms?

They arrived to find the church already quite crowded. Jurgen looked around at the familiar faces, some of whom he'd grown up with. Like himself, they'd adjusted to their new names and identities, but could the past ever be truly erased?

He felt a sharp pain in his chest at the realization that he'd never see his family again. Christmases with snow on the ground and carols around the piano were gone forever.

He remembered his siblings, especially Reinhart, happily ripping into presents under the Christmas tree. The boy with the freckles on his cheeks now lay in a cold, lonely grave, having given his life for a lost cause.

The Christmas card Frau Schiller had sent her son was propped on the headboard above the bed. It had been addressed to Jurgen alone, as if he were still single. Joanna knew the older woman still blamed her people, and by extension herself, for the loss of one son and the forced exile of another. A brief note from Paula, accompanied by a photograph of Boychick, had warmed and cheered her.

Beneath the small tree on a table lay two wrapped presents. Jurgen picked one of them up and handed it to his wife.

"Feliz Navidad, Juana," he told her.

She opened the package to find a beautiful pair of earrings shaped like flowers. The stems were made of silver inlaid with rhinestones, and the flowers themselves consisted of six petal-shaped sapphires surrounding another rhinestone.

"Oh, they're beautiful! Thank you!" Joanna hugged Jurgen's neck. "Here's yours." She picked up the second package. "Do you need me to open it for you?"

Jurgen shook his head vigorously as he held the package in his hook and used his remaining hand to unwrap it. Inside was a handkerchief with his initials embroidered in the corner.

"I know it isn't much, but it's the best I could do," said Joanna.

"Nonsense," Jurgen replied. "It's beautiful. Thank you." He kissed her lips.

That night they cuddled in bed, caressing each other. Although they hadn't had intercourse since Joanna had started to show, they'd remembered alternative ways of showing affection. Jurgen used his mouth and fingers to stimulate Joanna to orgasm, and then she did the same for him. Afterwards, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Winter became spring, and Joanna's abdomen grew ever more large and bulky. Her walk became a waddle, and she experienced frequent backaches. At night she lay on her back, feeling the child within her wiggle and squirm. She remembered Herschel's smile and the way his eyes twinkled when he was happy, Hinda's voice ringing out loud and clear as she sang 'In The Fireplace.' Would her child have any of their traits?

By the time Easter arrived, Joanna was huge. She suffered almost constant heartburn and could only eat a few bites at a time.

Several days later, she'd just finished the evening meal when she felt a strange tightening around her abdomen, one which grew stronger and more painful by the minute. She felt a gush of warm water from between her legs and watched as it puddled around her feet.

"I'll get Lila," Jurgen told her.