For dinner

Gregory brows are scrunched in concentration, he has been able to fix ninety percent of the crib, just a few parts are left. No matter how much he scares me I can't help but admire his features. His dark hair is dishevelled, soft pink lips parted, grey eyes focused on the task at hand. His muscles flex at intervals as he tries to put screws and objects in place.

After his outburst neither of us have said anything. There has been no move from me to even breathe loudly. I fear that if I do so he will come for me.

“It's all done”. He says rising on his feet and inspecting his work.

“Is there anything else you would want to be fixed?”. He finally looks at me.

I shake my head.

“Words Denise”. He states

“No”. My voice is small. He nods his head.

“Ouch….”

“What is it?”. He is by my side in milliseconds.

“The baby kicked”. I say.

I've barely got the word out and there is another movement, this one is obvious, you can see the movement through my clothes.

I see his eyes go wide. It's a g