Chapter 152

The kitchen was alive with warmth the faint hum of the vent, the low sizzle of butter melting in the skillet, and soft music drifting from the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Abigail moved with easy confidence, barefoot in her hoodie and joggers, hair pulled up in a loose bun that was already coming undone.

She’d set out everything with care: thick-cut steaks seasoned with herbs and pepper, a pot of peeled potatoes simmering on the stove, and a bundle of fresh asparagus waiting its turn. The air smelled rich and comforting garlic, rosemary, and butter swirling together into something that could make anyone fall in love twice.

She stirred the sauce gently, tasting it with a small spoon before smiling to herself. “Perfect,” she murmured.

Then she heard it the soft shuffle of bare feet behind her. A moment later, a pair of warm arms slipped around her waist. Emma pressed herself against her back, resting her chin on Abigail’s shoulder, her breath brushing her neck.

“Hey, baby,” Abigail said softly, her voice warm.

“Hi,” Emma mumbled, hugging her tighter. “I’m helping.”

Abigail laughed, tilting her head slightly. “Oh yeah? What kind of help is this?”

Emma didn’t answer at least not with words. Instead, she pressed a slow kiss against the back of Abigail’s neck, smiling against her skin. “Emotional support,” she said finally, her tone playful and drowsy.

Abigail chuckled, shaking her head as she flipped the steak in the pan. “You mean distraction.”

Emma hummed, her hands sliding up to rest over Abigail’s stomach, fingers tracing slow circles. “No… motivation.”

Abigail sighed, fighting back a grin. “You are way too affectionate for me to get anything done, you know that?”

Emma nuzzled against her shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “You love it.”

Abigail smiled, turning the heat down and letting the steak rest. “You’re right. I do love it. But if you keep that up, dinner’s gonna end up being takeout.”

Emma giggled, her lips brushing just below Abigail’s ear. “Then maybe I’m doing my job right.”

Abigail turned slightly in her arms, just enough to see her face. “You call this helping?”

“Of course,” Emma said with mock innocence. “I’m making sure you stay relaxed.”

Abigail leaned down and kissed her forehead, her voice soft. “You’ve got a very interesting definition of help.”

Emma smiled up at her, hands still rubbing gentle circles against her waist. “You don’t seem to be complaining.”

Abigail laughed quietly, turning back to the stove. “That’s because it’s impossible to complain when you’re wrapped around me like this.”

She reached for the pot of potatoes, drained them, and began mashing them with butter and cream. Emma stayed close, her body pressed against her back, chin resting on her shoulder again. The rhythm of it the soft scraping of the whisk, the quiet sound of Emma’s breathing felt domestic and intimate in a way that made Abigail’s heart swell.

“You know,” Abigail said after a moment, her voice teasing, “if this is how you ‘help,’ I might need you in the kitchen every night.”

Emma smiled, kissing her neck again. “Careful, I might hold you to that.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Abigail admitted, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.

“Exactly,” Emma said, smiling against her skin.

The room felt like it was glowing the golden hue of the setting sun spilling across the counters, the smell of dinner filling the air, and the sound of quiet laughter blending perfectly with the soft background music.

When the timer on the oven chimed, Abigail finally sighed and turned in Emma’s arms, hands resting gently on her hips. “Alright, my little helper,” she said, smiling, “if I don’t finish this, we’re both going to be starving.”

Emma pouted but let her go, stepping back just enough to lean against the counter. “Fine. But I’m still taking credit for half of this dinner.”

Abigail laughed, shaking her head as she plated the food. “You can have all the credit you want, baby.”

Emma’s eyes softened, following her every move as she added the finishing touches creamy mashed potatoes, perfectly seared steak, roasted asparagus with a drizzle of lemon butter. When Abigail placed the plates on the table, it looked like something straight out of a magazine.

She turned to face Emma again, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Dinner is ready. And before you ask yes, I washed the strawberries for dessert too.”

Emma grinned, walking over to her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Abigail leaned down and kissed her softly, lingering for just a moment. “Only because I’ve got the best motivation in the world.”

Emma laughed quietly, wrapping her arms around her again. “You mean me and the baby.”

Abigail brushed a thumb across her cheek. “Exactly. My favorite two people.”

Dinner had been perfect simple but full of flavor, just the way Emma liked it. The soft glow from the pendant lights reflected off the marble counters, the air filled with the lingering scent of garlic and herbs. Their plates were pushed to the side now, empty except for a few crumbs and traces of mashed potatoes.

Emma leaned back in her chair, rubbing her belly lightly with a satisfied sigh. “That was amazing, baby. You really outdid yourself this time.”

Abigail smiled, collecting their plates and stacking them neatly in the sink. “Glad you liked it. I think you ate more than I did.”

Emma giggled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “The baby’s got good taste. They wanted seconds.”

Abigail turned and leaned against the counter, watching her with a soft grin. “So it’s ‘they’ now? Not ‘she’?”

Emma shrugged playfully, pretending to think. “Maybe they’re keeping it a secret until the appointment.”

Abigail laughed quietly, shaking her head as she rinsed off the plates. “Fair enough. Either way, I think we’re raising a little foodie.”

The hum of the dishwasher filled the quiet as Abigail finished cleaning up. Emma sat at the table, tracing her fingers along the edge of her glass, watching her move with that same loving gaze she always did when Abigail was in her rhythm grounded, calm, at home.

Once the kitchen was spotless, Abigail turned back to her, wiping her hands on a towel. “Hey, baby,” she said softly. “You want me to run you a bath?”

Emma’s eyes lit up instantly, her voice dropping to a dreamy hum. “Yes, please.”

Abigail smiled, walking over and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Alright. I’ll grab the candles and your favorite oils.”

Emma reached for her hand before she could go. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Abigail grinned, brushing her thumb over Emma’s knuckles. “I try. Besides, I’ve got some homework I need to get done while you relax. Then we can get in bed, put on a movie, and just cuddle. Sound good?”

Emma smiled softly, nodding. “Perfect.”

Abigail gave her one more kiss before disappearing down the hall toward the bathroom. Within minutes, the sound of running water filled the air, blending with the soft click of candles being lit and the faint scent of lavender steam curling into the air.

When she came back, she found Emma still sitting at the table, her expression soft and content. Abigail walked up and held out a hand. “Bath’s ready, my love.”

Emma stood slowly, stretching a little before taking her hand. “You spoil me too much.”

Abigail kissed her temple as they walked. “That’s kind of the point.”

Emma smiled, leaning her head against her shoulder as they made their way toward the bathroom. “Don’t be too long with that homework,” she murmured. “I’ll need my cuddle time after.”

Abigail chuckled, squeezing her hand gently. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The apartment was quiet except for the soft tapping of Abigail’s fingers against the keyboard. Her office corner glowed faintly under the warm light of a desk lamp, pages of notes spread across the table beside her laptop. The faint hum of her lo-fi playlist filled the background, helping her stay focused while she caught up on assignments for Music Theory and Literature.

A candle flickered beside her — one of Emma’s lavender and vanilla ones the scent soothing but bittersweet. She kept glancing toward the hallway, half expecting to hear Emma’s voice or the soft creak of footsteps padding across the floor.

She’d been at it for almost an hour when she leaned back and rubbed her temples, glancing at the time. “Alright, halfway done,” she muttered under her breath.

Raising her voice slightly, she called toward the bathroom, “Baby, you okay in there?”

Emma’s voice drifted back through the open door, warm and calm. “Yeah, baby, I’m fine. Just finishing up — water’s still warm.”

Abigail smiled faintly, picturing her probably surrounded by bubbles, hair tied up, eyes half-closed in relaxation. “Good. Don’t fall asleep in there,” she teased.

Emma laughed softly, the sound echoing down the hall. “No promises.”

Abigail shook her head with a grin and turned back to her laptop, scrolling through her notes. She lost track of time again, the words and music filling her mind as she typed.

It wasn’t until she felt a quiet presence at the door that she looked up.

Emma stood there wrapped in a soft towel, her hair damp and loose, cheeks flushed from the warmth of her bath. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling sleepily. “You’re not done yet?”

Abigail smiled up at her, her voice gentle. “Almost, baby. Just finishing this last part.”

Emma pouted, her lower lip sticking out slightly. “Hurry up,” she said softly. “I want you to hold me.”

Abigail’s heart melted. She pushed her chair back a little and held out a hand. “Come here, baby. Come sit on my lap. I’ll finish with you right here, and when I’m done, I’ll carry you to bed. How does that sound?”

Emma’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced by a small, tired smile. “That sounds good.”

She walked over, letting the towel fall loosely around her shoulders as she climbed carefully into Abigail’s lap. Abigail’s arms wrapped around her waist automatically, one hand resting protectively over her belly, the other moving back to the laptop.

Emma nestled in closer, resting her head against Abigail’s shoulder. “You’re warm,” she murmured.

Abigail chuckled softly, kissing the side of her forehead. “You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true.”

They sat like that for a while Abigail typing quietly, Emma tracing small patterns on her arm with her fingertips. Every few minutes, Abigail leaned down to press a soft kiss to her hair or cheek, whispering something gentle.

Eventually, the typing slowed, then stopped. Abigail saved her work, shut the laptop, and wrapped both arms fully around Emma. “All done,” she whispered.

Emma smiled without opening her eyes. “Mmm. Took you long enough.”

Abigail laughed quietly, lifting her just enough so she could slide out of the chair. “You still want me to carry you, or are you walking?”

Emma tilted her head up with a sleepy grin. “You said you’d carry me. Don’t go back on your word now.”

Abigail shook her head affectionately, sliding an arm under her legs and another around her back. “Alright, princess. Let’s get you to bed.”

Emma giggled as Abigail scooped her up with ease, resting her head against her shoulder. “You’re strong,” she mumbled, already half-asleep.

Abigail smiled as she carried her down the hall. “Only for you, baby.”

When they reached the bedroom, Abigail laid her down gently, pulling the covers up over her. Emma reached up sleepily, tugging her hand. “Come to bed too,” she whispered.

Emma gave a soft, playful hum. “You owe me cuddles now.”

Abigail brushed a strand of damp hair from her cheek. “You’ll get all the cuddles you want, I promise. But let me take a quick shower first, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Emma made a small noise of protest, wrapping her arms tighter around her waist. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t, baby.” Abigail kissed her once more.

Within ten minutes, she was done. She wrapped herself in a towel, ran her fingers through her damp hair, and turned off the bathroom light before walking quietly back down the hall.

When she stepped into the bedroom, the sight made her heart swell Emma already curled up under the covers, one hand resting over her belly, the other reaching absently toward the empty side of the bed as if searching for her.

Abigail smiled softly, dropped the towel, and slipped into bed beside her. As soon as she settled under the blanket, Emma instinctively rolled toward her, snuggling close until her head rested perfectly against Abigail’s chest.

“I told you I’d be right back,” Abigail whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Emma hummed sleepily, her voice muffled. “You smell good.”

Abigail laughed quietly, her arms wrapping around her. “Good. Now go to sleep, baby.”

But Emma didn’t answer — she was already gone, her breathing even and slow, completely at peace.

Abigail lay there for a while, one hand gently rubbing small circles against her back. The world felt small and perfect in that moment just the two of them and the soft rhythm of their hearts syncing in the quiet.

She kissed Emma’s forehead one last time and whispered into her hair, “I love you, you know that?”

Emma stirred faintly, mumbling in her sleep, “Love you more.”

And with that, Abigail smiled, pulling her closer until they both drifted into the kind of sleep that only comes when everything feels right in the world.