It wasn't that bad, really. She was just being silly. She turned to the side and lifted up her shirt.
Even when she sucked in, there was a noticeable pouch at the top of her pants.
Alice Cooper lost the baby weight in four months. Polly lost it in three. The benefits of breast-feeding twins with a seventeen year-old metabolism. It had been eight months and Betty Cooper-Jones still couldn't wear her old jeans.
Well, she could. Sort of. She could button them in the morning and, if she wore a flowy top and didn't eat anything, it was totally fine. At least until about 10 am and Juliet's second feeding. Then she'd normally cave and eat whatever carb- or sugar-based comestible was closest.
Tears gathered in her throat at the memory of yesterday's loss of willpower. Alice had been over and she had positively crowed over Betty's slip-up. After all, no one wants a fat wife. And hadn't Betty noticed how smitten Jughead had been at their waitress the week before? No one could blame his eye for wandering. Betty had worn yoga pants to dinner. And she hadn't even put on lipstick!
The worst part of it all was that she was right. Jughead had been staring at their waitress. Their pretty, probably barely out-of-college waitress. Betty sighed and let her top drop back down. Her tits ached. They were heavy and pendulous, swaying under her clothes without her consent. Just another way her body didn't feel like her own anymore.
She knew the post-baby euphoria couldn't last forever, but still. She really hadn't expected him to have eyes for anyone but her.
She wasn't really worried. She wasn't. She knew Jughead loved her, knew it like she knew the pattern of the birthmarks on his cheek. He showed it every day. The way his eyes crinkled when he listened to her ramble. The way he kissed her forehead when he delivered her morning coffee.
She just sometimes missed the urgency with which he used to show it. She missed him whispering I love you into the scars on her palms or making love to her like they were running out of time.
He'd finally let go of any lingering jealousy of Archie-at least when it came to her, his relationship with Fred was another matter-around the time they left for college. And once he finally accepted that she was in his corner for good, he'd flourished. All the confidence and wit he used to save just for her unfurled and made its way out into the world and the world was charmed. Just as she'd always known it would be.
And she was so glad he had that. She was so glad her love could give that to him. That she could give that to him. All she ever wanted was for him to relax into her love, to let it wash over him and raise him up, the way his did for her. And she was so proud of him.
But sometimes she missed the boy with stars in his eyes who looked at her like she was the buoy keeping him afloat. The way she now often caught him looking at their daughter. She knew their love would change. It had changed because they had changed. And that was okay. Really it was.
The lump on the bed behind her stirred and her husband's dark head emerged. He squinted at her through the one unruly lock of hair that persisted in drooping over his right eye.
"Why are you wearing clothes? Come back to bed."
"I just wanted to go through my wardrobe to see if I needed anything new." She wrapped her arms around her middle.
Unfortunately, he saw right through her. He climbed out of bed and came to stand behind her, surveying her in the mirror. He wrapped his arms over top of hers and rested his bedhead on her shoulder.
"Okay. Juliet and I can go to the park and do some writing this afternoon while you shop. I bet Ronnie would love to go with you. But that doesn't explain why you've been huffing and grimacing at your reflection for the past twenty minutes." Of course he'd been awake.
"What is it, Betts?"
She sighed and stared at a dirty sock on the floor, willing herself not to cry. "My old pants still don't fit and I ate two muffins yesterday and Mom thought that that was the perfect time to point out to me that you were staring at our waitress when we went out for Mexican. And Mom and Polly had both lost their baby weight by now and what if I can never lose it and what if all the baby-induced oxytocin fades from your brain and you stop being attracted to me?"
He was silent for a beat. Then, "One of these days I really am going to kill your mother. If I had my way, you'd always be pregnant." He kissed her shoulder. "I love everything it did to you. Remember your second trimester? You were too hot to wear a bra and you were always horny. I still haven't gotten some of the stains out of FP's truck."
He pulled off the old S t-shirt she still insisted on sleeping in and moved to face her. "I love how soft you are now. I love that your tits alternate between squishy water balloons and ready-to-pop water balloons.
"I was staring at the waitress, but I was looking at her necklace. It looked like something you'd like and I wanted to surprise you when you went back to work next week."
Okay, now she really was going to cry. But, as if he sensed it, Jughead knew just how to change the mood.
He smirked at her, the same way his sixteen and six year-old selves used to. "And if you lose this ass, I'll never forgive you."
He spanked her, as if to punctuate the statement. But at her sharp intake of breath, his eyes met hers and heat settled between them. Adrenaline flared in her stomach.
He dropped to his knees before her and she exhaled as he began to suckle one breast, lapping at the milk that dribbled out. His lips ghosted along her stretch marks as he unbuttoned her pants and drew them down her legs. There were red marks where the zipper had dug into her, but she barely had time to notice them before his head was licking between her thighs and around the curve of her hip.
He worked his way to the back of her and kissed his way up the indentation of her spine. When he made it to the nape of her neck, she could feel the weight of him pressing into the curve of her ass.
His eyes met hers in the mirror and he moved one hand to lift her leg as he shoved his boxers down with the other.
Then the baby monitor went off and their daughter's cries insisted she knew it was past her breakfast time. He groaned and leaned his forehead against her shoulder. She turned to kiss his head.
"I'll go."
"No, I'll bring her here. You do not move and do not put your clothes back on."
