Chapter 12: Can We At Least Try?

I'm sitting on the bed while Blake is busy trying to talk to our unborn child.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you doing inside? Just tell me if you don't like what your mom is eating, 'cause I will force her to eat fruit loops if you want 'em," he whispers, his hands rubbing my stomach like it's a magic 8 ball.

I giggled at his childishness. "Blaze, what are you doing?" I asked.

"I heard it's good to talk to the child while they're inside," he explained.

"Well, not this early!" I slapped his arms.

"You never know, Maddy. It's some kind of telepathic stuff," he defended.

He then proceeded to plant small kisses on my stomach. "I love you, kiddo