Chapter 155 Talking About The Baby

"I'm not angry at you, but that doesn't mean I don't mind,"

said Carlos as he pulled Debbie into his arms. "So you need to make me happy."

"Okay. How about I sing a song for you?" She put her phone aside and cradled his neck.

"What? 'Pray for You' again?" Carlos asked through gritted teeth.

Debbie stuck out her tongue and made a face. "No, no, no! I don't want to be buried alive again. Grave mold is a bad look for me."

Her reaction amused Carlos, who pinched her nose and ordered playfully, "Then sing."

Debbie rested her head on his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat. "This is my favorite song. Hope you'll enjoy it."

"Uh-huh."

Carlos moved the slider on the dimmer, and instantly the room was cloaked in darkness. The neon lights of the city came in through the window, bathing everything in the room in a curious cast of blue. Tucked in his arms, Debbie looked him in the eye and started to sing. "I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now. Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel-Air now. Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild. The crazy days, city lights, the way you'd play with me like a child. Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful..."

Carlos had long known that Debbie was a good singer. She seemed to have magic in her voice; his restless mind cooled down when she started singing. That was why he liked to hear her soaring vocals. She was able to hit some intense parts, and there were times when her voice went positively stratospheric. She was gifted, and he was a lucky man.

And singing had an effect on her as well. When she hit those emotional parts, her eyes would start tearing up. She was able to feel what she was doing, give it some punch from deep in her lungs and enthrall an audience. "Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will. Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? Dear Lord, when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man. When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in. Father tell me if you can. Oh that grace, oh that body, oh that face makes me wanna party. He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds..."

His eyes were as deep as the ocean; she couldn't help but lose herself in them.

She finished off with a beautiful line. "Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" As she crooned, her voice was low and angelic, as tender as a baby's skin, and as soft as new fallen snow. She relaxed finally, done with her rendition of Lana Del Rey's "Young and Beautiful"

" Carlos asked in confusion.

"In that case, our baby would say 'Daddy' when wetting the bed or getting hungry. Hahaha! It would be you who gets up at midnight to change the diaper..."

Carlos' heart softened at the mention of their future child.

He decided to play along with his wife, who was putting on her down jacket. "Honey, don't worry. If you gave birth to a baby, I would hire ten nannies to take care of you and our baby. So you should teach the baby to say 'Nanny' instead."

"But I heard some nannies would hurt babies, like feeding them sleeping pills so that they won't cry all day," she retorted.

"No one would do that to MY baby!" Carlos spoke with curt finality.

Rolling her eyes, Debbie zipped up her jacket and snapped back, "What if they did it behind closed doors?"

"Well then, teach our baby to say 'Grandma' and 'Grandpa' first," Carlos said with a shrug.

"So, you're trying to tell me you won't take care of our baby, huh?"

A cold shiver suddenly ran down Carlos' spine. "That depends..." He could only give her a vague response so that she wouldn't be pissed off. But on the inside, he retorted, 'Of course I won't be taking care of my baby. I hate babies; they're a pain in the butt.'

Debbie remembered Carlos was fond of boys, so she asked, "If it's a boy, will you take care of him then?"

"No," he answered shortly.

Taking a deep breath, she continued to pry, "What if it's a girl?" Debbie was fuming inside. 'He doesn't seem to like children at all. Then why is he dying to have a baby? Does he just want to torture me by letting me give birth to a baby? Or does he want to have a baby with someone else?'

'A girl?' Carlos pondered. The man, who had always wanted a boy, hesitated right now. 'A girl...'