pretty girl (Lauren/You- first person)

chapter forty seven.

Three Months Later

Lauren's first trimester seemed to fly by. It was admittedly difficult to keep our little secret, because every time I got a text or call from anyone I wanted to update them on her progress, no matter how minute it was. Even though I was sure Madison and Jake knew already, we were playing coy and they hadn't asked us about it since the day we actually found out, which part of me was grateful for.

Much to my relief, as well as Lauren's I'm sure, she didn't have a lot of morning sickness, but there were definitely a few days where all she could keep down was water and maybe a handful of soda crackers. It was helpful that I had already been through a pregnancy, although it was five years earlier, I still felt a bit more in control of the situation when Lauren was unsure of what to do. Her biggest worry was that she would miscarry, and it was difficult to watch her walk on eggshells from time to time when she got too much in her own head, my instinct of always wanting to protect her from any negative feelings kicking in. I tried my best to be attentive and be what she needed me to be, whether that was the voice of reason, a shoulder to cry on or someone to celebrate this exciting adventure with. We had already had the twelve week appointment just the other day, Dr. Robbins giving her some well earned praise for getting plenty of rest and how health conscious she was being.

Lauren had taken up a new hobby fairly soon after we confirmed her pregnancy, and that hobby was looking in the mirror. Every day, she would walk into the bathroom and study her reflection, the total time probably adding up to ten minutes each day. Turning from side to side, covering every angle, shirt up and shirt down (According to her, it makes a difference, and who am I to argue?) Right now though, there's no shirt, but a black and white, horizontally striped maxi dress, so she's tugging at the fabric, then smoothing it back down, then turning around and repeating the motions.

"I feel like you can tell." She sighs, turning from side to side, slowly running her hands over her stomach. "I can't wear this." With a huff, she walked back to the closet to find something else. I looked down to check the time on my phone, feeling relieved when I see that we still have plenty of time before we have to get Delilah from school.

"You don't look any different... yet." I say, trying to save myself from whatever could come for me when an icy green glare shoots my way. "If anything, people will just think you've been eating a lot of pasta."

"It's not pasta." She huffed, still looking for a different dress.

"Of course not pretty girl, it's a nugget." I flashed her a cheesy smile, and got one in return. "But, the pasta theory would definitely be believable, since we do have a date on Saturday." My smile softened as I took a step towards her, gently wrapping my arm around her shoulders from the side and pulling her to me.

"That's right, we do have a date on Saturday." She said with her face tucked into my shoulder. "I can't believe it." She sighed, wrapping her arms around my ribcage and seeming to forget her plans of looking for a new outfit.

"You've been my wife for nearly one entire year." I mused, smiling into the top of her head where I rested my cheek. "Incredible."

"You're pretty lucky huh?" She teased, trying her best to hide the giggle that followed.

"I actually am." I said with a smug grin. "I'm so lucky."

"I'm lucky too!" She said, nuzzling into my shoulder and squeezing me tighter.

"Well, yeah, you are." I chuckled, kissing the top of her head before breaking away. "Now, what do you want to wear today? I think that dress is fine."

"Stripes make you look wider anyways, I just feel like it's obvious." She tugged one of many solid black dresses off of the rack, looked it up and down and then put it back.