You're so ugly." You said to yourself as you looked in the mirror. You spat more and more insults at yourself until a throat was cleared. In that moment your swear your heart just stopped as you turned and saw Johnny. "Baby...." He said quietly as he walked up to you. He grabbed your hands and held them tightly, so you wouldn't pull away. He knew you try to walk past him like you always did when you didn't want to talk about something. "Is that how you really feel?" He asked. He sounded so hurt. Your eyes stung from rising tears. You didn't say a word, but you managed a nod. "Why?" He asked. You could tell he was holding back tears. "They're all skinnier than me, have nicer skin than me, prettier than me. You could have ANY girl you wanted, but you're with me. Those other damn girl point out my flaws like there's no tomorrow. I know I'm not pretty. I know I shouldn't be with you. I kn-" Johnny cut you off before you could say another word. "Don't talk like that! I think you're perfect. You may not have the most pretty skin or the thinnest body, but I don't care. You could looked like Marylyn Monroe or you could look like something that crawled out from the gutter and of love you. You. Are. Perfect. Fuck what everyone else has to say. They aren't me and they never will be. I love you and only you. Face the facts; you're perfect, I love you and no matter what anyone else says they're wrong." He said. He had a few tears rolling down his cheeks and you were practically sobbing. Johnny let go of your hands and gave you a hug. His arms were wrapped so tightly around you almost could breath, but you didn't care. When he pulled away he wiped your cheeks gently rather than his own. "I'm sorry." You whispered. Johnny shook his head no. "I'm sorry. I should've made you feel how you really are." He said. You felt another tear roll down your cheek. "I love you." You whispered. Johnny didn't answer, he just leaned in for a kiss.
“Yeah?” He says, looking over at you.
“I found this in the attic.” You say, tossing it over to him.
It was his baby blanket, a dark blue color.
He looks at it wide eyed, just taking in the memories.
“What about this?” He asks, still looking at the blanket.
“Well I thought our baby would like it.”
“Planning ahead huh?” He grins.
“Only 8 eight months ahead.” You smile.
He looks up at you in surprise.
“You’re pregnant?” He asks, standing up from the couch to face you.
You just smile.
He scoops you up into a giant hug.