 Anashti l Brat Pack l Sally & Dr. Finklestein
She was so intent on the (impossible) task at hand that Advika hadn’t heard the door open or shut, signaling her husband’s return home. It took him rushing into the kitchen - which she could assume was only the smell of the burnt yeast in front of her - for her to realize he had arrived. She offered a small smile at him, hoping the scent hadn’t worried him, before glancing down at the pan in front of her and giving a wave it’s direction. “Well… your nose has not failed you. I forgot about what I put in the oven.” She’d save herself from saying what it was - perhaps he could have guessed.
Giving up on her task at hand, she took of the gloves she’d donned while working with the food and left them on the counter, striding over to her husband instead to greet him. “How’s take out sound for dinner tonight?” She was taking the fact she wasn’t having a melt down at this stage as an optimistic sign - perhaps this pregnancy wouldn’t be nearly as emotional as the last.
Or at least one could hope for both of their sakes.
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Let them point and laugh at who we are, it's you and me here dancing from the start |