Chapter 159

Abigail jogged the last few steps across the parking lot, her heart lifting the moment she saw Emma push open the driver’s side door.

Emma smiled, but she looked tired — the kind of tired that came from growing a whole human and holding in a thousand emotions. Abigail’s chest softened.

She rounded the car and tapped the roof lightly.
“Baby… get in the passenger seat. I’m driving us home.”

Emma blinked at her, surprised. “You sure? You just had class—”

“Yes,” Abigail cut in gently, brushing a hand across Emma’s cheek. “I want to drive. You’ve done enough today. Go sit, put your feet up if you want.”

Emma melted instantly, her lips curving with that soft, affectionate smile that always made Abigail want to kiss her senseless.
“Okay, Daddy,” she whispered playfully, sliding out of the seat.

Abigail shook her head with a grin but didn’t deny how good the nickname sounded coming from her. She opened the passenger door for Emma and helped her in, making sure she was buckled comfortably before closing it and jogging around to the other side.

Once she started the engine, she reached over and placed her hand on Emma’s thigh.

“You good?” she asked softly.

Emma nodded. “Now that you’re here? Completely.”

Abigail kissed her hand before shifting the car into drive. They pulled out of the lot, campus fading in the rearview mirror as they headed toward home.

A few minutes passed before Abigail glanced over, thumb still tracing soft patterns on Emma’s thigh.

“So…” Abigail said, her voice warm. “What do you want for dinner tonight? I can stop at the store on the way home.”

Emma perked up instantly — pregnancy cravings lighting up her whole expression.

“Oh, I know exactly what I want.”

Abigail laughed. “Of course you do. What is it?”

Emma bit her lip dramatically, thinking. “Hmm… I want mac and cheese. But like, the baked kind you make. And maybe fried chicken? Oh! And greens. And cornbread.” She paused. “And watermelon. And… maybe chocolate pudding.”

Abigail kept her eyes on the road but smiled so wide she had to bite her cheek.
“So… basically a full Sunday dinner on a Thursday?”

“Yes,” Emma said without shame. “Our baby is hungry.”

Abigail squeezed her thigh affectionately. “Then our baby’s gonna get everything it wants. We’ll stop by the store before we head home.”

Emma leaned over, kissing Abigail on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.”

Abigail exhaled softly at the warmth of it.
“Anything for you.”

Abigail pulled into the grocery store parking lot and cut the engine. She looked over at Emma, who was already unbuckling her seatbelt with a sleepy excitement in her eyes.

“Come inside with me,” Abigail said, brushing her thumb over the back of Emma’s hand. “You can grab your snacks, and I’ll get everything else.”

Emma lit up instantly.
“Really? I get to pick them myself?”

“Yes, baby,” Abigail laughed. “Come on.”

Emma hopped out of the car with more energy than Abigail expected, closing the door and practically skipping to her side. Abigail wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked toward the entrance, rubbing slow circles on her little bump.

Inside, the cool air washed over them, and the bright aisles seemed to wake Emma up even more. She leaned into Abigail, kissing her cheek once… then twice… then a third time.

Abigail laughed softly. “You’re really affectionate today.”

Emma shrugged, pretending to be innocent. “I just love you. And you look so good when you push the cart.”

Abigail raised a brow. “That’s the pregnancy talking.”

“No,” Emma said, kissing her jaw this time. “That’s me.”

Abigail’s cheeks flushed as she grabbed a cart. Emma immediately wrapped both arms around Abigail’s free arm, holding onto her like a koala while they walked.

“Okay,” Abigail murmured, her hand sliding naturally over Emma’s stomach. “Snacks first or dinner stuff?”

“Snacks,” Emma said decisively. “The baby wants snacks right now.”

Abigail pushed the cart to the snack aisle while Emma guided her from the side, leaning her head on Abigail’s shoulder. Every few seconds she’d tilt up to kiss her neck or temple, her lips brushing the skin softly.

Abigail exhaled a slow, warm breath. “If you keep kissing me like that, we’re gonna get kicked out of the store.”

Emma smirked up at her. “Then we should hurry and get everything before you start something.”

Abigail laughed under her breath, fingers brushing over Emma’s belly again. “Go ahead, baby. Pick what you want.”

Emma released her arm and walked a few steps down the aisle, scanning bags of chips, cookies, dried fruit, candy, trail mixes — her cravings were unpredictable these days. Abigail watched her with a soft smile, admiring the sway of her hips, the glow in her cheeks, the way she hummed while she looked around.

Emma suddenly gasped. “Oh! These!” She grabbed a bag of spicy sweet chili chips, then another of cheese puffs, then a pack of gummy bears.

Abigail raised an amused brow. “All of that?”

“Yes,” Emma said, placing them proudly in the cart. “The baby needs variety.”

“Uh-huh,” Abigail teased. “Okay, baby. Whatever you and the baby want.”

Emma walked back over, wrapped her arms around Abigail’s waist, and kissed her lips softly. “Thank you for spoiling me.”

Abigail kissed her back, slow and warm. “Always.”

They headed to the dairy section first, Abigail grabbing heavy cream, shredded cheese, a block of sharp cheddar, butter, and buttermilk for the fried chicken.

Emma took every opportunity to kiss her shoulder or cheek.

“Baby,” Abigail murmured, glancing down, “you okay today?”

Emma nodded eagerly. “I’m good. Just clingy.”

“Very clingy.”

“You like it,” Emma said, kissing the corner of her mouth this time.

They moved to the spices. Abigail threw paprika, garlic powder, black pepper, onion powder, cayenne, and flour into the cart.

Then she headed to the meat section, carefully picking out a pack of fresh chicken thighs and drumsticks.

Emma pressed close again. “You make the best fried chicken.”

“Thank my grandma,” Abigail said. “She’ll haunt me if I mess it up.”

Emma giggled and kissed her shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

They made their way to produce. Abigail grabbed a big bundle of collard greens and a pack of smoked turkey for flavor.

Emma kissed her cheek again. “You spoil me.”

Abigail shrugged, smiling softly. “You’re carrying my baby. I think you deserve this.”

Emma actually got teary-eyed for a second… then pointed at the boxed cornbread mix.

“And that?”

Abigail chuckled and grabbed two.

Abigail loaded the last grocery bag into the trunk, closed it gently, and walked around to the driver’s side. Inside the car, Emma was already elbow-deep in the giant tub of cheese balls, crumbs on her lips, cheeks puffed adorably.

Abigail slid into the seat, buckled up, and turned toward her.

“You couldn’t wait even a little bit?” she teased.

Emma shook her head, munching happily. “Baby, these were calling my name.”

Abigail laughed and leaned in to kiss her cheek, but Emma’s hand shot out lightning fast—grabbing her by the collar and pulling her closer.

“Come here,” Emma whispered.

Their mouths met in a deep, slow kiss that made Abigail’s breath catch. Emma sighed into it, tugging gently at Abigail’s hoodie, wanting her closer, wanting the warmth. Abigail cupped Emma’s cheek and kissed her back just as deeply, her lips moving with practiced tenderness and quiet hunger.

The kiss stretched on—soft, warm, full of love. When they finally broke apart, Emma kept her forehead pressed to Abigail’s, her breathing a little shaky.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“Baby, I was gone a minute” Abigail murmured, brushing her thumb across Emma’s lips.

“Too long,” Emma said.

Abigail smiled, leaned in for one more kiss, slower this time—then straightened in her seat.

But something flickered in her peripheral vision.

She glanced up toward the grocery store entrance.

Professor Shields.

Walking through the automatic doors with a small basket in hand… and her gaze lifted at the exact same moment.

Their eyes met for a split second.

Shields’ expression shifted—just a subtle tightening in her jaw, something unreadable flickering through her eyes—before she looked away and kept walking.

Abigail’s heart thudded once, sharply.

Emma, still holding her hand, didn’t notice.

Abigail exhaled, shook it off, and turned the key in the ignition.

“Let’s go home,” she said softly, squeezing Emma’s thigh.

Emma smiled and leaned back in the seat, popping another cheese ball into her mouth. “Drive, baby.”

Abigail pulled out of the parking spot, her hand reaching across the console to intertwine with Emma’s as she drove them back toward the penthouse.

The rest of the drive was quiet in the sweetest way. Emma snacked contently beside her, humming along to the soft music Abigail kept low. Every now and then Emma would reach over and trace circles on the back of Abigail’s hand, or rest her palm on her thigh, her touch warm and familiar.

Abigail kept glancing over at her — not because she was worried, but because she loved seeing her happy.

By the time they reached the penthouse parking garage, the sun was dipping lower, casting soft amber light across the concrete.

Abigail turned into their reserved spot, the tires rolling to a gentle stop. She cut the engine and unbuckled, turning toward Emma.

Emma was licking cheese dust off her fingertips.

Abigail laughed softly. “Baby… you’re a mess.”

Emma grinned, leaning in. “Kiss me then.”

Abigail did — soft, lingering, tasting faint hints of cheese and sweetness. Emma sighed into the kiss again, fingers curling lightly into Abigail’s hoodie like she didn’t want the moment to end.

When they finally broke apart, Emma whispered, “Home.”

“Yeah,” Abigail said, brushing a strand of hair from Emma’s cheek. “We’re home.”