The beginning of forever

45 - The plan

Book 2: So, this is Forever

45 – The plan

Freen's POV

It's the middle of the night, and I'm peacefully dozing off when suddenly, I feel a nudge and hear a whimper beside me. My wife, who's usually a sound sleeper, is wide awake, her eyes shimmering with tears.

"What's wrong, babe?" I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"It's just... I really need something," she says, her voice trembling with emotion.

I sit up, concerned. "What do you need?"

Her eyes light up with a mix of longing and desperation. "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich... with pickles... and a side of spicy chips."

"With pickles... and spicy chips?" I ask in disbelief, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Yes, Freen! Please, I can't sleep, I'm salivating just thinking about them," Becky responds.

"But babe, you don't like the taste of pickles, and you don't eat spicy food," I remind her gently.

She arches her eyebrows at me. "You know what, you can simply tell me that you don't want to be bothered and prepare things for me. I can do it myself," she exclaims, starting to get out of bed.

I quickly realize my mistake as Becky's emotions heighten with pregnancy hormones. "No, no, wait! I didn't mean it like that," I say, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry, my love. I'll buy them for you, I promise."

She hesitates for a moment before giving me a small smile. "Okay, but you make it, don't buy ready-made. Let's go to the kitchen, I want to watch you prepare them."

I nod eagerly and guide her to the kitchen. As I prepare her unusual late-night snack, I can't help but marvel at how pregnancy has made her cravings so unpredictable.

I start to assemble the peanut butter and jelly sandwich topped with pickles when Becky stops me.

"Hey, I don't want those," she says, stopping me from opening the chips.

"But it's the spicy chips, Beck," I tell her.

"Ehhhhhh!!! Not ready-made!" she exclaims, and I just cross my eyebrows, wondering how I can make spicy chips.

She seems to understand my confusion and instructs me on her preference, "Get my usual favorite chips and sprinkle them with spicy powder."

I chuckle at her specific instructions and comply, amazed at how she knows exactly what she wants even in the middle of the night.

I gather Becky's favorite chips from the pantry and search for the spicy powder. Thankfully, I find it tucked away in the spice rack. With care, I sprinkle the chips with just the right amount of heat, following Becky's instructions to the letter.

"Here you go, love," I say, presenting her with the customized spicy chips alongside her sandwich.

Her eyes light up with delight as she takes a bite of the sandwich and then a chip. "Mmm, perfect," she says, her face glowing with satisfaction.

Watching her enjoy her late-night snack, I can't help but be filled with amusement and adoration. Her pregnancy cravings have turned our ordinary moments into little adventures, and I love every minute of it.

"Thank you, dada Freen," she says with a cute baby voice, reaching out to squeeze my hand.

My heart melts at her words. "Anything for you, my love."

I reach for a chip, eager to taste my handiwork, but Becky playfully slaps my hand away before I can grab one.

"They're mine," she declares, grabbing the bowl of chips protectively to her chest.