Bruce met you back in high school. High school sweethearts, yeah. He didn’t know how to come onto you because you were one of those girls. Rich 2000’s style, hung around everyone, and was probably already two bodies in. Bruce was just that guy everyone liked and wanted to be, but he was also quiet. How did you attract him? Nobody knows.

To this day, Bruce wonders how someone like you married him. He didn’t care though—as long as you loved him. One thing Bruce loved about you was your very shameless sense of fashion. You had a 2000’s look to you. You were naturally 2000’s fine, and other people seemed to notice it. Your clothes were always either blinged out, revealing or just very put together in general.

Bruce would question if you wanted to actually wear something like that out in public—mainly because one, you were two weeks pregnant, and two, he didn’t want creeps looking at you. You obviously calmed him down, letting him know that you were alright. He knew whatever you said, he wouldn’t argue.

Right now, you both were baby shopping. You had your eye on any and everything, and Bruce just knew that you wanted to make the baby a mini version of you, so he quickly stepped in. “We’re getting actual baby clothes.” He said in a cold and stoic tone that didn’t seem to bother you. He was serious though—he wanted this baby to come out looking fresh and neat—not like he/she had just been born into the generation it’s mother dressed in.

Of course, you rolled your eyes and patted Bruce’s chest. You always disregarded his worries and opinions, and sometimes it’d lead to him being right and you sulking like a baby—but he was always there to console you.