She had missed him for a truly long time. Sometimes the only news he got from him were the ones the newspapers brought, other times not even that, and the doubts consumed her. Ever graceful, she was good at hiding her fears, even when those fears involved her brother being hurt and/ or Monet not being able to see him ever again. It was a fear she’d hidden deep within her. The idea of not seeing the Donquixote Family ever again devastated her, but the idea of not seeing Bartolomeo again, or of something bad happening to him terrified her to a point she’d never admit. After all her brother was the most important person in the world for her. Would she ever admit it aloud? Of course not. But sometimes she did try to show it, like that day. 

She had convinced the whole crew to keep Bartolomeo away from the kitchen for three hours, time she was dedicating to cook his favourite recipes and to bake his favourite cake. She was almost done, silently glad because after such a long time without cooking she had been able to make those complicated dishes and that delicious cake. Whilst she decorated it, slowly, paying attention to every detail Monet thought about when had it been the last time she did cook, and it had been for Law a few months ago, the day they sneaked in that inn’s and she baked for  him a really easy cake. How things had changed–

Monet started to think about the things she’d need next time they docked, since this trip she just had time to buy what she needed for cooking and there were things that apparently she couldn’t ask Barto’s crewmates to buy, like all the stuff she’d need for when her period—-

And then it hit her as she finished writing her brother’s name with créme on the cake, right under a beautifully written <<HAPPY BIRTHDAY>>. The nausea, that irregular and weird last period, the way her breasts for some reason felt different—-  no.

The door opened at the time her eyes opened widely at that sudden realization. The only one allowed to enter the kitchen after those three hours was Barto, but if it was someone else she was too shocked to turn them into an icicle. Why hadn’t she realized it before, and also, was that for real?  She needed a pregnancy test as soon as possible.

At the time the pastry bag fell from her hands a shocked, and quiet whisper escaped her lips, something that was perfectly audible in the silence of the room.

— ❝ —I am pregnant—.❞