This Love is Ours

Chapter 70: Welcome to Reality

{Abigail}

I reach up and kiss Patrick's scratchy cheek, a result of his playoff beard.

It's thick now, but to be honest, I've always had a thing for Pat's playoff beard.

I think it's totally hot.

And not to mention his playoff mullet. That thing is a beauty.

"Good luck tonight, love. You're going to be fine." I say, resting my hand against his cheek.

The familiarity of his strong jawline under my hand is vivid.

He swallows, nodding.

"I love you. I'll see you later tonight." He says, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

I smile, looking down at the ground, one of my hands resting on my baby bump.

"This love is ours." I say, looking up at him.

"This love is ours." He replies, quickly.

He gives me one last peck on the cheek, before leaving through the main entrance of the apartment.

I close the door after him, and sigh, happily.

It's Saturday, May 27, about 3:00 in the afternoon.

Tonight, the Chicago Blackhawks will play the Vancouver Canucks in game seven, at the United Center.

It's been a long and physically grueling series, that has pushed its way all the way to game seven.

The entire city is pumped for tonight.

Over the past week or so, the city lights on the skyscrapers are all red and some of the buildings even say "GO HAWKS GO" on them.

It's incredible. The city is on fire, and the game tonight is going to be epic.

The game is at 8:00 tonight, and Chaunette is picking me up at 6:30 to head to the United Center.

The two of us are going to watch the game together.

I head over to the kitchen, and open up the fridge.

I stare into the large fridge, leaning against the open door.

I grown.

Nothing is satisfying my longing right now.

I think it's all the pregnancy hormones, but I have been craving salty fries lately. And I'm trying to tell myself to not eat them, but I can't control this craving right now.

I shut the fridge, and slip on my pair of Birk's.

In Millennium Park, there are always food trucks that sell the best and saltiest foods.

I have been controlling this craving for the past week, and I'm sick and tired of it. I'm getting fries, right now.

Plus, it will be nice to get out of the apartment and go for a walk.

At my last ultrasound, Dr. Nolan told me that a moderate amount of exercise is good for pregnant women.

Patrick, of course, had to be there for that ultrasound, and so ever since then he has been constantly asking me if I want to go work out with him.

He always uses the fitness center at Trump Tower (because it's hella nice if you ask me) on weekends and that sort of thing, and he always asks me if I want to come down and do a quick workout with him.

I appreciate his concern and all, but he just doesn't get it.

Yeah, I know that exercise is supposedly good for pregnant women but I'm having trouble fucking walking most of the time.