Chapter 1 --- we didn't have a scale

We didn't have a scale, so after I'd stumbled out of bed and put on an old nightshirt, I passed by the mirror in our room and paused. I turned to catch my own gaze, held it for a moment, took a breath, and looked down. I followed the slope of fabric down to the full swell of my belly that I'd grown accustomed to. Without looking away, I traced its edges before pressing down until I could feel the muscle hidden underneath. I scratched myself absent-mindedly and when I felt my own heft, I paused again and turned my hand to gently cup my soft underbelly. Running my fingers from hip to hip, I found a small crease and realized that my sluggish weight had started to hang, which I was not used to. Maybe this is too much, I thought. This should be the end.
But before impulse turned to plan, I smelled baked apples and carrots and my dull hunger silenced the thought. I gave my gut an satisfying pat and said "Breakfast now, but you're next." It was an empty promise, but it felt good to hear aloud. I found your note next to the muffin tin: As promised and just for you. Don't disappoint. xoxo. I knew what you expected, but I hadn't always been so eager.

* * *

We'd met at the party of a mutual friend. It was one of those long summer nights with the perfect array of new and familiar friends, where the air is humid but there's still a breeze. The kind where you leap between circles of conversation to maintain your careful orbit around that one person who caught your eye from across the room and didn't look away. One awkward introduction near the door, a half-real argument waiting in the bathroom line, an over-serious reconciliation after some shitty party game. All these artful collisions punctuated by a small, hidden grin to yourself and a warm nervousness, until the night grows semi-blurry and the extra people begin to fade away.

And that's when you found me again, on the roof. I was sitting near the edge when you joined me, and we looked out across the dark city blocks beneath us. As we talked, you slowly revealed the smile you'd kept to yourself throughout the night. I remember thinking that it, and you, were so sweet. We ran through topics and jokes, pet theories and peeves, until there seemed to be nothing else, so we just sat for a while in silence. And in that silence, I stammered something about your smile, so you asked if you could hold my hand, but when you held mine in yours, you looked right at me, and something happened. I looked away.
And so, you traced the contours of my hands, arms, neck, and my breath caught as you grabbed my hair. You kissed me once, and then again on the neck. You smiled and leaned your head against my chest. I felt your hands slip down along my neck to my ribs and further. My heart tripped and I nearly said something, when your hands stopped their sharp descent. You'd found the slender line just inside my hip and you started tenderly following it up and back, back and forth. Every once in a while you'd shift in my arms and gently caress my small belly. Even as that made me blush in embarrassment, I couldn't help but warm in response to your touch. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but when we eventually left, the last ones out, and split on the subway platform, you leaned in for a hug, and I thought you pinched me, just for a moment. But when I looked at you in surprise, you didn't make a joke. You just seemed curious.