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M
A few days later.
It was the night before Damien and I would be flying to Maryland to see my cousin. I was doing a final check of my suitcase, pacing back and forth between the bathroom and our bedroom to add things to my luggage.
Damien had returned home moments ago and retreated to our bed where he sat working on some final things on his laptop. He would often glance up at me when I entered the bedroom, hearing how my bare feet padded along the floor in an anxious hurry.
With all my toiletries organised and packed, I moved to raid my closet, changing my choice of wardrobe for the trip for what had to be the hundredth time today.
Everything that I wanted to wear just didn't seem appropriate. They either didn't fit, showed too much skin around my scarred shoulder or put too much emphasis on my growing stomach. A part of me believed I was just overthinking it all but the other part of me was growing more and more self conscious of my appearance.
I let out a frustrated huff as I stood in my large closet, my gaze roaming over my figure in the bright blue long sleeved maxi knit dress. It hugged my figure in all the right places but the outline of my stomach stood out before anything else.
I pouted, turning from side to side while readjusting the fabric around my stomach in an effort to loosen it. "Baby?" I called out to Damien.
"Yes bambina?" I heard him answer me as I stepped out of my closet to meet him. He was still on his laptop but when I made my presence known he lifted his head up to look at me.
"Okay, I need your opinion.." I said. "Alright." He hummed in response, closing his laptop before he moved to sit at the end of the bed. He folded his arms across his bare muscular chest, giving me his undivided attention.
"Be honest." I sighed, doing a small turn for him so he could see how I looked in the dress. "How do I look?"
His lips curved upwards, his eyes twinkling with a gleam of love and adoration for me. "Beautiful. Beautiful as always."
"Wrong answer." I uttered, turning to face him with my shoulders slightly slouched and my lips still in a temporary pout. He raised an eyebrow at me, fighting the urge to chuckle. "Let me rephrase. Do I look pregnant in this dress?"
He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows to his knees while he lifted a hand to rub his bearded chin. "Is that a trick question?"
"No, I'm serious." I huffed. "I look pregnant, don't I?" I moved to stand by the mirror to look over my reflection, tentatively smoothing the sides of my dress while rotating my hips. "Ugh! I do."
"Sweetheart—" he rasped, prepared to say more but I turned on my heels, making a beeline straight for my closet to change into the next dress that I had in mind. I could hear Damien lowly chuckle to himself until I reemerged some moments later in a long sleeved white knit button up dress that pooled to the floor.
