Khaat was truly starting to enjoy her time away from St. Mungos. She had lost her anger at her father for tricking her into taking the medical leave that he had believed was so essential for her health and her baby's, and she was even planning on spending some time with her mother. She was also liking going into Sparks and not going there to work. She would go there often so Rob would cook for her. She liked Rob spoiling her, and he seemed to like doing it. She felt his watchful, protective eyes on her often, and it felt safe. Made her feel secure and loved, and she liked it. It wasn't a nuisance now. She appreciated his attentiveness and his deep devotion and love.
The serious thinnness she was dealing with that had almost caused her to miscarry her baby was fading slowly while Rob was finally in charge, and Khaat was letting him make all the choices, all the decisions. She had just decided she didn't want to be bothered doing it anymore--at least while she was carrying Abbey. She was even truly trying to cut back on her addiction to good, strong, no nonsense, black french roast coffee. She was only drinking half cups now. Never mind that when she got seriously stressed she just drank more of them than she knew she should.
Today, she was sitting at a table by herself, feeling more relaxed than usual, and was equipped with a muggle fashion magazine for pregnant women that she had purchased merely on a whim in a muggle bookstore, and she also had a copy of the Daily Prophet with her. She wasn't truly interested in the newspaper, though. She was flipping through the magazine, and sipping on her coffee and nibbling on a new orange scone that had a delightful orange glaze on it. Khaat was trying to decide if the new flavor was going to become her new favorite or not. The baby girl she was carrying had a definite sweet tooth, so anything sugary was fair game, although Khaat was still relentlessly harping on Rob to get some pistachio ice cream in to ease her cravings. Leave it to a man to not understand how important it is to address those stinking obsessive cravings, she thought, a trifle irked with him for not just putting down everything else he had to do and order the bloodly ice cream. He just didn't get it, apparently. And unless he could develop a pistachio cheesecake, her craving for pistachio was not likely to go away without the pistachio ice cream.