1987 You were six and a half months pregnant and it felt like absolute hell. Well, not entirely though since John always did whatever he could to try and make the pregnancy as easy as he could for you. This had been your first time ever being pregnant, so each day was like a leaning experience for the both of you. But as long as you had John by your side, things had always seen to be easier for you.

Lately you and John developed a routine of you coming home from work, or wherever you had been that day, and he’d be there if he wasn’t busy with something of his own, and he’d asked you about your day and rub your feet for you since you would nine times out of ten be in your feet all day and he wanted to do that for you out of the kindness of his own heart.

Today was no different from the rest. The only slightly different thing was that you were just a little stressed out from work. You were pregnant so of course they advised you to only do the bare minimum. You walked through the door and there was John, sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels, but soon shifted his focus on you when you walked through the door. You plopped down next to him, looking visibly upset, and he took notice of this when you sat down.

John: What’s wrong, my love?

He asked in a concerned tone as he sat your leg in his lap and took your shoe off so he could get to rubbing your feet. The both of you had been together long enough to tell when something was bothering the other, no matter if it was obvious or not. For you in this moment ot was obvious, and all he wanted to do was see why you were bothered and somewhat stressed. That was the last thing that he wanted for you and that you wanted for yourself, and that was to be stressed out during your pregnancy since that wasn’t good for the baby at all.