Chapter 149

Outside the tall windows, the city lights shimmered like distant stars, the hum of traffic below blending with the faint echo of the wind.

Abigail leaned back in her chair, her plate empty but her heart full. Across from her, Emma sat barefoot on the counter again, the hem of her oversized T-shirt brushing against her thighs, a lazy smile curving her lips. The blush roses Abigail had brought home earlier rested in a vase between them, their petals half-open under the glow of the kitchen lights.

“Dinner was amazing,” Emma said softly, picking at the edge of her plate. “I swear, you could open your own restaurant if you wanted to.”

Abigail laughed quietly, shaking her head as she stood to rinse the dishes. “You say that every time I cook.”

“That’s because it’s true,” Emma replied, hopping down from the counter and coming to stand beside her. She reached for a towel and started drying the dishes as Abigail washed. Their shoulders brushed occasionally, the rhythm of their movement as natural as breathing.

For a moment, there was only the sound of running water, soft music from the speaker, and the quiet intimacy of two people moving in sync.

Then Abigail spoke, her voice gentle. “You know that song I told you about earlier? The one I’ve been working on?”

Emma glanced over, her curiosity sparking immediately. “Yeah the one you said was kind of soft, like me?”

Abigail smiled, setting the last dish in the rack. “That’s the one.”

Emma leaned against the counter, crossing her arms loosely. “Did you finish it?”

“Almost,” Abigail said, drying her hands. “But… I’ve been wanting to play it for you. Just once, before I start tweaking things.”

Emma’s expression softened, her voice lowering. “You wrote me a song?”

Abigail hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking down shyly before she met Emma’s gaze again. “Not just you. You and the baby.”

The words hung in the air tender, heavy in the best way. Emma’s lips parted slightly, her eyes glistening. “Play it for me,” she said quietly. “Please.”

Abigail smiled, her heart fluttering at the way Emma’s voice wrapped around that word. “Alright.”

She grabbed her guitar from its stand near the living room, settling onto the couch. Emma followed and sat beside her, tucking her legs underneath herself, watching every movement like it mattered. Abigail’s fingers brushed lightly over the strings, tuning by ear, until the notes came out smooth and clear.

The first chord filled the air soft, melodic, the kind of sound that instantly settled something deep inside them both. Abigail took a breath and began to play.

It wasn’t a love song in the traditional sense. It was something quieter, more intimate a song that felt like a heartbeat. The rhythm matched the pulse of something steady and safe, like the warmth of home, the hush of morning, the whisper of skin against skin.

The melody rose gently, winding around the soft thrum of her guitar. Abigail’s voice came next low, raw, and full of feeling.

It wasn’t polished yet. She didn’t need it to be. Every word, every note carried the weight of what she felt: the tenderness, the hope, the fear, the joy.

“You’re the calm in my storm,
The breath when I can’t find air.
The reason I keep playing,
The peace I didn’t know was there.
And when the world feels too heavy,
You remind me what love can do.
Because somehow every song,
Always leads back to you.”

Her fingers slowed on the strings as the last note faded into the air. The silence afterward felt sacred like the world had stopped just for them.

Emma sat completely still, her eyes shimmering, one hand resting gently on her belly. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Abby… that was beautiful.”

Abigail looked at her, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. “You liked it?”

Emma wiped at her eyes, laughing softly through the tears. “Liked it? Baby, I loved it. It’s… it’s us. Every bit of it. You captured everything I feel when I look at you.”

Abigail reached out and rested her hand on Emma’s knee. “It’s just the start. I was thinking… maybe I’ll turn it into a lullaby too. For when the baby’s here.”

Emma’s hand slid over Abigail’s. “You’re going to make me cry again.”

Abigail chuckled softly. “Good tears, I hope.”

“The best kind,” Emma said, leaning forward to kiss her.

The kiss was soft, slow, full of unspoken emotion. When they pulled apart, Emma leaned her forehead against Abigail’s and whispered, “You have no idea how lucky I feel.”

Abigail smiled, her thumb tracing along Emma’s cheek. “I could say the same.”

They sat there like that for a while no words, no rush. Just two hearts beating in time with the quiet hum of the city outside.

Eventually, Emma shifted and lay her head in Abigail’s lap, her hand still resting protectively over her stomach. Abigail began to play again a softer, wordless version of the song her fingers moving instinctively over the strings.

The notes floated through the air like a lullaby already written for a future that was only beginning.

Emma’s eyes fluttered open, her voice fragile and warm. “You really love me, don’t you?”

Abigail’s hand paused for a moment, her gaze softening as she looked down at her. She smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from Emma’s face. “Yes, baby. I really do. More than I can explain.”

A tear slipped down Emma’s cheek as she laughed quietly. “God, I’m crying again. It’s the hormones, I swear.”

Abigail set her guitar aside and leaned down to kiss her gently, her smile full of affection. “Sure, hormones,” she teased softly. “But I’ll take it anyway.”

Emma chuckled, curling closer against her. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Abigail whispered against her temple, “Good. That’s exactly where I want to be.”

The first soft light of morning spilled through the wide curtains, painting the penthouse in gold and pale rose. Abigail stirred awake slowly, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the glow. For a moment, she didn’t move mostly because she couldn’t.

Emma was draped over her, her arm slung across Abigail’s waist, her face buried against her chest. The gentle rhythm of her breathing warmed the skin beneath Abigail’s hoodie. The weight of her, familiar and comforting, made it tempting to stay there forever.

But the clock on the nightstand blinked 7:15 AM, and Abigail knew she had to get up if she wanted to make it to her first class.

She shifted slightly, her voice low and soft. “Baby, I’ve got to get ready for class.”

Emma stirred but didn’t lift her head, her voice still thick with sleep. “You can’t move until you kiss me first.”

Abigail smiled, her chest melting a little at how adorable she sounded. “Is that right?”

Emma gave a tiny nod against her. “Mhm. Rules are rules.”

Abigail leaned in, brushing a soft kiss across her lips gentle, lingering. Emma sighed into it, her mouth curling into a small, sleepy smile. “Okay,” Abigail whispered against her lips, “now can I move?”

“Fine,” Emma murmured, rolling over with a yawn. “But only because you kissed me first.”

Abigail chuckled under her breath, pressing one more kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed.

The shower steamed quietly a few minutes later, the sound of running water filling the calm air. Abigail’s mind drifted between her schedule for the day Music Theory I with Professor Shields at nine, then Contemporary Literature with Professor Cross that afternoon and how peaceful mornings like this always felt.

After she dressed, she padded barefoot into the kitchen. The city outside was still waking up, a soft hum of life rising from the streets below. She grabbed the blender and started her usual routine — banana, spinach, protein powder, almond milk. The sound broke the silence, filling the space with a comforting rhythm.

Once her smoothie was done, she turned her attention to breakfast. The smell of sizzling eggs and toast soon filled the air. Abigail hummed lightly to herself, tapping her foot against the tile floor as she cooked.

Before heading out, she poured Emma’s smoothie strawberry banana, her favorite into a tall glass, added a straw, and plated her breakfast with quiet care. A couple of slices of buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and fresh-cut fruit.

Carrying the tray, she walked back to the bedroom, her heart softening at the sight waiting for her. Emma had rolled onto her side, still half-asleep, her hand resting on her stomach like she was subconsciously holding their little one even in her dreams.

Abigail sat gently on the side of the bed and brushed her fingers along Emma’s cheek. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she whispered. “Breakfast is here.”

Emma’s eyes fluttered open, her smile slow but bright when she saw her. “You made breakfast again?”

Abigail nodded. “And your smoothie.”

Emma reached out, taking her hand and kissing it before sitting up. “You’re spoiling us, you know that?”

Abigail smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Anything for my girls.”

Emma blinked, amusement flickering in her sleepy expression. “You don’t even know if it’s a girl.”

Abigail grinned, tilting her head. “I know. But I hope it is.”

Emma chuckled softly, her eyes shining. “Why’s that?”

Abigail shrugged, still smiling. “Because then I’ll have two of you two beautiful, strong, stubborn girls to keep me on my toes.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head. “You have no idea what you’d be signing up for.”

“Oh, I do,” Abigail said, brushing her thumb gently along Emma’s jaw. “And I’d still take it a thousand times over.”

Emma reached up and cupped her face, pulling her in for a slow, sleepy kiss. “You’re too sweet to me.”

Abigail smiled against her lips. “That’s my job.”

She stood, grabbing her bag from the chair by the dresser. “I’ve got to head out before I’m late. My first class starts at nine.”

“Music Theory?” Emma mumbled around a bite of toast.

“Yeah,” Abigail said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Professor Shields again.”

Emma gave her a knowing look, her eyes still heavy with sleep but laced with quiet amusement. “Mhm. Behave.”

Abigail laughed softly and leaned down for one last kiss. “Always. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Emma nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I will. Have a good day, baby.”

Abigail kissed her one more time, lingering for a moment before finally pulling away. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Emma said, already settling back under the blanket with her breakfast in her lap.

Abigail smiled as she walked toward the door, her keys jingling softly in her hand. She took one last glance over her shoulder Emma cozy in bed, morning light brushing over her face and felt that familiar rush of gratitude for this little life they’d built.

Then she stepped out into the hallway, ready to start her day.