Foto bij 826 - Emma

No matter how much I have tried to avoid it, glaze over it, it is about to be my birthday. Thirty, the big three-o as our friends that are yet to turn this magical age call it. The last time I looked at the time, it was nearing eleven, and now we're at least two glasses of wine further, so it must almost be midnight.
As some form of birthday tradition, we have just finished watching Pretty Woman, Lucien on his back on the couch and me sprawled out on top of him.
We paused it multiple times for smoke breaks, which caused the movie to last almost double its original time, only making this night more pleasurable.
When church bells toll in the distance it signals a new day starting, and a new year beginning for me. Lucien, lost in thought for a second, smiles at me immediately.
"Happy birthday," he starts, his words almost immediately lost as he goes in to kiss me. "A new deca-"
"Don't-" I mumble, "finish that sentence. I like to stay ignorant, pretend I'm still in my early twenties."
"If you were still in your early twenties," he chuckles, tracing a line between the birth marks on my upper arms. "We wouldn't have met yet. I would still be a mess, waiting years for our paths to cross."
"In my ideal world," I breathe, enjoying his gentle touch to my skin. "We would have. I don't care how, or where, but we would still have met when I was still young."
He laughs. "We did meet when you were young. You're still young," he presses a kiss to the top of my head. "And hot, and beautiful."
"And thirty."
"And flirty, and thriving," he says almost seamlessly, causing me to lean my head up and raise an eyebrow at him.
"You know 13 going on 30?"
"I have a sister," he shrugs. "I have been forced to sit through many romantic comedies. That's not the point, though... Tell me more about that ideal world of yours."
I lean my head back onto his chest, listening to his heart beating. "I don't think I would change much of the past. I would have avoided some of our fights, maybe, or..." my hand reaches for his, fumbling a little, then feeling our fingers intertwine, calming me down. "I would have listened to my body more, when I was pregnant with Claire." I take a breath in, with it becoming hyper aware of my surroundings.
I'm laying in our shared appartment, on my fiancé's chest, on my thirtieth birthday. I am engaged to the love of my life and have the most amazing group of people around me. There isn't much more to wish for, is there?
"In my ideal world, Louis is still alive. So is your mother. But knowing I can't change those things," I let my breathing steady by focussing on Lucien's heartbeat. "In my ideal world, we have a beautiful wedding. Julia Roberts marries us, and everyone we love is there to celebrate how much we love each other, including your father. After our wedding and our second wedding, we take two months off to go on an extensive honeymoon. We go to Rome, first, then travel to all the places we want to see. And on the last day, before we fly home, we have the most mind-blowing, loving sex we've ever had, and a month later, I find out I'm pregnant. Eight months later, without any trouble, we have a beautiful, healthy daughter, and buy a house in France together, where we spend our holidays. We're both lawyers in one way or another, so we get to decide when and where we work, and we're... happy."

I wake up the next morning with a bit of a hangover from the copious amounts of sparkling wine we had to drink the night before, but I don't mind.
Lucien is already up, the shower running but the bathroom door unlocked, so I simply walk in.
"Oh," he pouts when I stick my head around the corner. "I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed."
I chuckle. "That's okay, we can do breakfast out on the balcony... after a quickie."
"A quickie?" he gasps, grinning. "Miss Middleton, you must know that on your birthday, there is no such thing as a quickie."
"Well," I smile, stepping out of my underwear. "I must have forgotten - you definitely should remind me."
      Breakfast is simple, but lovely. There's fresh croissants, strawberries, orange juice and coffee, joined by the sheer bliss that shower sex and sunshine brought me.
After breakfast, Lucien pats my knee. "Time to get dressed."
"Sorry?" I smile. "I wasn't aware I needed to get dressed to celebrate my birthday."
"Consider it payback for kidnapping me on my birthday," he smiles. "Only this time, I will tell you where we're going - lunch, with your parents and Phoebe. They insisted, so you'd better dress nice."
I laugh, wiping some of the croissant crumbs off of the oversized shirt from Lucien's side of the closet I've been wearing. "Please don't tell me you've also bought me real estate for my birthday, because I will murder you."
"I promise I didn't. Just lunch with your parents, no massive gifts."
I sigh. "Fine. Now, will you pick out my dress for me?"
His eyes sparkle. "You'll wear a dress?"
"Of course I will, it's my birthday, and the only thing making it more bearable is receiving a million compliments from you about how amazing I look in the dress you picked out for me, isn't it?"

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