𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [slow updates]

𝟐𝟐

CINDY

It's been well over three days since the event, and my social battery is still at a dead zero. But I made a good breakfast this morning, so I think saying it's at a one is more accurate.

I wish I could stay home today, but I've already cancelled on Tommy and his parents three times.

From past experiences, I know I won't be able to just stay for an hour and go home. They'll keep me entertained, hydrated, fed—everything so I don't have an excuse to go home.

❄︎❄︎❄︎

Tommy and I decided that we should drive there together, so as soon as I'm ready, I text him. And not even ten minutes later, he walks into my house. I'm not in the best mood, and I don't even want to go today, but I promised. I've put off dinner with his family for too long now.

He's chewing gum that he bares to me when he smiles real big.

"You look so pretty."

I smile back. "Thank you."

He comes to give me a hug, pressing a kiss to my forehead before pulling back to look at my belly.

Truth be told, I'm getting pretty big. Dad even made a watermelon joke about my baby, and Mom's huge when she's pregnant. That means that if Dad's saying something about it, then I'm definitely not as small as I thought.

I guess that makes me happy though. Knowing that soon I'll have my boy, and as an added bonus, the pain in my... everywhere will finally come to an end.

"Hi, baby." He whispers to my tummy, kissing me there over my dress.

I watch as he stands straight and fixes his shirt, wondering how the hell my life has come to this. Sometimes it completely escapes my mind how different things are, and sometimes it's so evident and clear that it shakes me up.

Like now. Like now, it's shaking me up a little. Mostly because we're not really touching each other the way we used to, and partially because I'm not really sure what's appropriate anymore.

Just because we're not together doesn't mean that all of our history has been erased. I've gathered that we're still comfortable enough with each other to kiss and hug without it being weird, and I've gathered that I don't have these earth shattering, strong-ass feeling for him anymore.

But every time I see him, I get this urge to do things like before. Like, the muscle memory kicks in and makes me forget that we're not about to get married anymore.

"Do you want to see the prints from the last ultrasound? He's ginormous."

He scoffs like I've just asked the world's dumbest question. "Duh."

I go into our—my room to grab the little stack of prints from all the past ultrasounds, but he doesn't follow me inside. And I guess that answers it for me. Where the boundaries that were never there before start.

More awkwardly than I would have liked, I say:

"You can come in, Thomas. It isn't weird."

He shrugs. "It is when you don't call me Tommy."

Calling him Tommy just reminds me of something I started calling him when we were kids. And it's evident now more than ever that we're not kids. Calling him that would feel childish.

I don't say that though.

"Sorry. Tommy."

We both just stand there looking at each other for what feels like forever. We both feel it, how things are changing and have changed. I could be wrong, but I think we're confused by how that's possible.