so long - t.s.h [sequel to pinky promises]

[eleven]

a/n: i am SO sorry that it's been forever since I've updated. life has been rough since i last updated (for everyone) and i just wasn't feeling inspired to write. but now that i'm getting back into the swing of it, i'm so excited to keep writing. i hope you guys are still interested in this story! i would really appreciate feedback, if you don't mind! 

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At the start of the second trimester, everything seemed to be going smoothly. Your tummy, while still fairly small, was growing steadily, and was finally more visible without having to search for it. Just as predicted, Tom was practically glued to your stomach. He was obsessed, but then again, so were you. It was the little things that made your heart swell; the way he casually rested his hand against your tummy while the two of you were watching tv, or how he almost always fell asleep with a hand splayed across your skin. You couldn't feel any movement yet, but Tom was constantly asking, just in case. He took weekly pictures, wanting to keep a record of how you were growing, and with every new week, he always announced what item of produce your baby was the size of, thanks to the app you were using to track everything (this week, it was a lemon).

Everything was just feeling so much lighter, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You were much less tired, and the morning sickness wasn't really an issue anymore. Best of all, no one had uttered Amber's name or had even thought of her, for that matter. Your little family was finally starting to come together, and everything felt right.

Maggie was so excited, too, even though you knew she didn't fully understand what was happening. All that she needed to know was that there was going to be a baby in the house soon, and that was all she needed to get on board. She was constantly asking if she was going to have a brother or sister and asked several times if the baby could sleep in her room when it got here. You had to explain to her that you didn't know whether she was going to have a brother or sister, and that the baby would have to sleep in your room for a while before they could move to her room. There was always a small pout, but when you reminded her that she'd get to hold the baby and help take care of it, everything was better.

You and Tom couldn't decide whether or not you wanted to know the sex of your baby before they were born, and often went back and forth on it. Everyone else had guesses, of course, and wanted to know right away, but you kind of liked the mystery of it.

One evening, as you brushed your teeth, you turned to Tom, who was doing the same, "Do you want to know the sex before our bub is born?" Only, you had a mouth full of toothpaste, so it came out as an unintelligible, garbled mess.

Surprisingly, Tom had understood you (thanks to a life-long friendship of stupid moments just like that) and spit his toothpaste into the sink and rinsed quickly before answering, "Honestly, I kind of do. I didn't know before Maggie was born, and while it was exciting to find out when it happened, I felt unprepared. But if you want to wait, I'm alright with that, too. Either way, as long as you're both healthy, that's what matters to me." He finished his statement by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the taste of his toothpaste lingering against your lips.

That was exactly the response you'd expected from your best friend; whatever made you happy made him happy, too. Except that you knew it was always genuine when he said it. Which, though it was heart-warming, could also be infuriating, but it was why you loved him. You knew that if it genuinely mattered to him, he would tell you.

Crawling into bed after changing into your pajamas (one of Tom's shirts and a pair of underwear was all you were comfortable in since your clothes were starting to not fit as well), you couldn't help yourself as you threw your leg over Tom's middle, straddling him. Tom, who had been looking at his phone, dropped it next to him on the bed as his gaze shifted up to you, a smile spreading across his face, "Well hi there, darlin." The palms of his hands ran up your bare thighs before coming to a stop at the curve of your hips, his thumbs gently pressing into the crease between your thigh and hip, "What's up?"