When John came around for dinner Clara had almost forgotten about everything. She had prepared his favourite meal and was about to fill their plates when he stepped into the kitchen and placed his arms around her from behind.
“I've missed you today,” he whispered before he gently nipped her earlobe.
Clara giggled. “Oh yes, cause we've been separated for a whole, what? 8 hours?”
He turned her around in his embrace and kissed her lips hungrily, rubbing their lower bodies together.
“Food's gonna get cold,” Clara breathed against his lips.
“Let it.”
“No, no, no,” she said, putting on a strict tone, “We are going to eat.”
John reluctantly pulled away from her with a long sigh. He helped her fill their plates and carry them to the dining table where he poured them both a glass of wine while Clara sat down.
“Yes, I admit, it looks a lot tastier when you cook. I should probably learn how to do this,” John admitted.
“Or keep clear of the kitchen,” Clara joked, “Really, I don't mind cooking. I like it. And it's nice to cook for more than just one person.”
John smiled at her and raised his glass, Clara followed his example.
“To us,” he said.
But when Clara put the glass to her mouth and smelled the wine she was suddenly hit by a wave of nausea. It was as if her stomach was turning around inside of her. Was this her body trying to tell her something? Or was this her subconscious thinking that she probably shouldn't drink until she knew for certain that she wasn't pregnant?
“Are you alright, darling?” John asked.
“Yeah,” Clara replied nervously and put the glass back down, “I think my stomach is still a bit sore from yesterday.”
“I'm sorry,” he apologized quickly, “I promise I'll never cook again.”
She smiled at him and prayed to God that he would stop asking questions. They had become so close in the past months that Clara found it hard to hide anything from him. Luckily she wouldn't have to for very long.