Archie!
There were probably a million and one more things she should worry about other than getting fat during her pregnancy. That was like--one of the things she knew she should be doing, but Izzie could not stop herself from completely fretting about a pooch.
Yes, she'd found the word for it. Or, was told the word, by one of her students. What did that old lady know, anyway, hm? Telling her she looked pregnant and was positively glowing.
...okay, so maybe the 'glowing' part wasn't so bad, but still. You shouldn't congratulate someone on being pregnant until you knew for sure. Even if they actually were pregnant. It was just rude and uncalled for, and Izzie would make sure that for the rest of her life she would make sure to never congratulate a pregnant-looking woman before said pregnancy could be confirmed. It would save the world from a lot of crazy people.
Isobel ran her hand down her front, Archie's shirt scrunched up under her arms as her fingers traced over the spandex of her yoga pants. She'd come over to his flat immediately after work, a regular routine she'd started up, and was waiting for dinner to be ready. That was something she should be worrying about, learning how to prepare food for her future husband, but Archie seemed to like cooking, so--why should she worry about that?
The sound of plates clanging against the table made her ears perk, and Izzie dropped her shirt back down before hurrying out to the kitchen.
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