Blackmail

Blimps

"I feel like a blimp."

"You're not a blimp."

"I'm as big as one."

"That just means there is more of you to love."

I blush at his words and reach for a jar of olives, placing it in the cart. He doesn't even question me. He just continues to push the cart through the store. I watch as he examines every package, box, and bottle that he places in the cart.

"Are you having a staring contest with your groceries?"

"No. My mother can't have more than a certain amount of sodium or it messes with her head."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"That's why whenever she bakes, she never uses the pinch of salt recipes call for."

"Speaking of your mother, why haven't I seen her recently?"

"She's been busy at home."

"Can I go and visit her after we're done shopping?"

"I'll have to see if she's up for visitors."

That's odd. He never has to see if she's up for visitors. She always welcomes me with open arms.

"Okay."

He pulls out his phone, dialing the number before continuing to shop.

"Hey, Mom. Can I bring Celia over? She's itching to see you."

He chuckles as he places a box of pasta into the cart.

"I doubt that it's just for your cookies. Love you. I'll see you later."

He hangs up and I shake my head at him.

"Does she really think that I just want to come over for her cookies?"

"No. She's only joking. She said how she didn't have any baked and that you wouldn't have any to feed the girls."

He puts his hands on either side of my stomach. Even though I love his touch, I smack them away.

"We're in the store! Save that for later."

"How are the girls today?"

"Good. They are in the middle of a boxing match with all my internal organs, but good."

"Remind me never to get you pregnant."

Ouch. What if I want to have more kids? I mean, I'll probably start crying and send myself into a mental breakdown if we even get close to doing-the-dirty. I never went to therapy after the attack. Now, all I can think about is negatives. And when there is a positive, I dissect it and question each aspect of it.

I'll never be the same again.

"Did I say something wrong, babe?"

"No. Let's just get going. My feet are starting to hurt."

"Okay. I just have a few more items to pick up. If you want to go sit on the benches near the cash registers, I'll meet you there."

That sounds like a great idea. I press a kiss to his cheek before waddling down the aisle towards the registers. I take a detour for the bathroom, suddenly having to go.