The Things I Can't Take Back [Michael Afton x F! Reader]

Chapter 24 ~ The Things I Can't Take Back [FINALE]

A/N: we've finally reached the final chapter 🥲 y'all are probably gonna hate me by the end of this 😈

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"Babe, I told you to let me take care of dinner," Alex let out an exasperated sigh as he walked back into the kitchen, seeing that you had stolen his spot in front of the stove once again, "what if you burn yourself?"

"I appreciate the concern, honey, but I'm pregnant not helpless," you replied with a soft chuckle, glancing back at your husband's worried expression, "but it started to boil over."

"And what if it had burned you?" Alex emphasized, letting out a groan as he rushed back over to your side, "if you get hurt, that could cause stress, which is bad for the baby!"

"The only one stressed here is you," you retorted, scrunching your nose up at him playfully when he gave you a light-hearted glare, "seriously, you act like I haven't been pregnant before."

     "Look, I don't care how many times you get pregnant, I'm gonna be worried each time," he moved behind you to carefully untie the apron from around your waist, letting his hands brush against the swell of your baby bump, "is that so bad?"

     "It's not," you giggled, turning your head to plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "but you know I can't help wanting to tease you. You're so cute when you're all worried like this."

     "I get it, I'm super cute, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't do that," he gave a breathy chuckle, turning his head to press his lips against your own, "seriously, are you trying to kill me?"

"Whoops, you figured out my plan," you giggled, carefully waddling back over to the kitchen table to sit back down, "my master plan, after all these years."

"Nearly ten years of marriage, just down the drain," he gave a dramatic sigh, tying the apron back around his own waist as he faced the stove, "I should've known it was too good to be true."

You couldn't help but laugh as you rolled your eyes, settling back into your chair with a low grunt. You gave a deep sigh as you leaned back against the wood, letting your hands rest against the bump of your belly.

It had been nearly two years since the day you had spoken with Michael at the coffee shop; the last time you had seen or heard from him ever again. You were pregnant with your second child; currently in your seventh month of pregnancy, about to enter your eighth.

The doctors had informed you that your baby was a boy, and Evelyn, who was now a rambunctious four-year-old, was overjoyed at the news that she would be having a little brother.

Speaking of your energetic daughter, she soon came racing into the kitchen after her father. Everywhere she went, you could hear the echo of her joyful laughter and little footsteps; alerting everyone around of her presence.

"Woah, woah, slow it down, princess," Alex quickly bent down, hooking an arm around the little girl's torso as she tried to run by him, stopping her in her tracks, "what did I tell you about running in the kitchen?"

The little girl's laughter died down into breathy giggles, still bouncing around excitedly in her father's embrace, "I could trip and hit something," she panted out, "or burn myself on the stove."