I spent half the afternoon hovering around the kitchen while you worked, stealing little pieces of dough and swiping extra cream whenever I thought you weren’t looking. You told me I’d eaten too much already, but I only laughed and waddled away with another pastry in my hand anyway. Cream dripped onto my chest at one point, and with how much my breasts had grown carrying your baby, they’d become the perfect place to catch every crumb I dropped.
I cleaned myself up and changed into one of your shirts, tugging it down as far as it would stretch over my belly before sneaking another pastry from the counter. I was exhausted, heavy with our baby and even heavier with sugar. By the time the last tray had cooled, I’d curled up on the couch and fallen asleep before you’d even finished cleaning the counters.
I woke up slowly to the feeling of your hand on my stomach. Not enough to fully pull me out of my nap, just enough to notice your warmth against my belly while your palm spread over me. It’s like you couldn’t help yourself. The blanket had slipped down at some point, leaving my stomach exposed from spilling out of your shirt. Oof embarrassing, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
The baby moved under your hand and I felt you pause every single time they kicked harder, like it surprised you every time they reacted to you. Tiny movements turning into slow rolls that stretched across my stomach hard enough to make me squirm in my sleepy state.
I whined when one especially hard kick landed. My thighs pressed together automatically beneath the blanket while my stomach tightened under your hand. I heard you draw in a breath.
“There you are. Too full of pastries and too full of baby,” you taunted.
I should’ve rolled my eyes at you for that, but I was too tired. Your hand stayed spread over my belly while you rubbed slow circles against the underside of it, calming both me and the baby back down together.
I could feel you staring at me like you were distracted by me. By how swollen and overfed I’d gotten carrying your baby and my belly spilling out of your shirt. I know you loved how helpless I’d become now that I was this ripe. You always got quiet when you were admiring me.
Eventually I tried to reposition with another sleepy groan and pressed myself back against you without opening my eyes, silently asking for attention while half asleep. Your arm wrapped around me, hand spreading beneath my belly to hold the weight of it against you. I wanted to cry from the little bit of relief that gave me.
The kitchen still smelled like warm pastries and your baby was still squirming around under your hand. With you holding me I fell back asleep.
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