Your Cheerleader

Benedito Goncalo Cruz Pereira 

"Let me carry the bag."

"No, no I have it you don't have to worry," Bobby smiled, took my hands in his that tried to take the bag off him and kissed the back of my palms, "I'm fully capable of carrying it."

"You're pregnant and what about your ribs," I frowned. 

"You can carry the tent and the portable grill," he tilted his head to the two smaller bags by the living room. I wanted to protest because I did not want Bobby carrying the large camping bag but I had to let it go. 

I smothered him too much sometimes and he was a fully grown man. A strong man just as much as I and when I was not around him, he could do things by himself. My soul still felt so terribly torn about letting Bobby do things by himself.