It was my turn to prep our dinner, even though Peeta had objected for my safety.
The danger level wasn't too high, but higher than the previous years. As my body progresses in a change. After he gave in, I agreed to let him stay with me.
Today we had gone to another doctor's appointment. The third of the many that was to follow in the next six months.
Peeta was more excited than I was, he always has been. At least that what I've noticed from the start.
With the usual request from him to the doctor that would regard how he should help me, it always required a list of things. An automatic cringe filled me the moment it was printed and Peeta scanned it. It is generous of him, to look after me, but sometimes I feel he takes it too far.
As I continue to prepare the stew we were to have that night, Peeta leaned over the bench beside me. Reading through the list of things he was given earlier. I mentally rolled my eyes when he pulled it out and continued to cut the vegetables.
My eyes shifted back to him when he stood up more, taking a smaller piece of card in between in his fingers. I placed the knife down to look at the card.
Our child.
The photo taken from the ultrasound earlier that day.
I had to let my mouth muscles contract to form a small smile on my face at Peeta's words:
"Even miracles take a little time."