Description: Bobby's old lady struggles to believe she is old lady material due to her lack of cooking skills.

I stared around the kitchen feeling completely out of place. I'd never been good at cooking or baking, but I needed to change that. My mom had tried teaching me and so had Gemma but I always end up burning something, usually myself.

"Baby," Bobby said gaining my attention. "I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I do not trust your cooking. Please stay out of the kitchen."

"I'm your old lady Bobby," I said. "I need to be able to cook."

"And I'm your old man (Y/N)," he responded. "I need to protect you. Even from yourself in the kitchen."

I nodded and sat down at the breakfast bar as Bobby started on dinner.

"You know I like cooking for you, right?" Bobby asked. I just nodded as my eyes watered.

"You need to learn to cook now that you're an old lady." "He's not going to want you in three months when you can't cook for him." "How did you get to be an old lady anyways? Can't cook and not even pretty enough to make up for it."

I'd heard it all in the months leading up to our wedding and I'm the few weeks since then. Gemma's voice was always the loudest. She thought every old lady needed to be able to cook.

"No old lady is worth having if she can't keep her man fed."

"What's going on in that mind of yours babydoll?" Bobby asked, standing across from me.

"Hmm?" I hummed softly. I wiped my eyes a little.

"Baby," he said just sternly enough to gain my attention. "What's going on?"

"I'm an old lady," I said. "But I can't cook. How the fuck am I supposed to take care of you if I can't feed you. No old lady worth her weight is unable to cook."

"Hey, who told you that?"

"Gemma, but I've heard it from the crows too. And some of the porn girls," I said. "And they're right Bobby."

"No they are not. I did not marry you to be my personal maid," he said. I felt a tear slip from my eyes and knew this was the point of no return. I wouldn't be able to stop this breakdown now.

"But I'm a old lady," I said.

"You're my old lady and I don't give a fuck that you can't cook," he said. "I want you as my life partner baby. I love coming home to you every night and curling up with a book or a movie. I love the fact that you call me during lunch to see if you can do anything for me before I get home. I love you and all our crazy and weird moments together. And I love cooking for you because you compliment me every time, even if it tastes like shit."

I smiled as he walked around the counter and kissed my lips.

"I love you too Bobby," I said. "I love taking care of you and this house. I hate waiting for you while you're on runs but that moment you pull back into the lot makes it all worth while."

I pulled him into a heated kiss, one heated enough to match any reunion kiss we'd had on the lot.

"You know what's even better than reunion kisses?" He asked as the timer went off.

"Reunion sex?" I responded. He chuckled.

"Yes but no," he said. "The way your eyes light up when you see me like everything is all of a sudden better."

"Because it is. My life is way better with you in it," I said softly, going to grab some plates for us.

"Because you're not eating burnt food or takeout?"

I glared at him jokingly as he laughed a little.

"Im kidding baby," he said. He pecked my lips quickly as I grabbed him a beer from the fridge and grabbed myself a water.

"No beer?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Haven't been feeling myself lately. Might be pregnant but I don't know for sure. Just being careful," I said.

"I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow if you want," he said. "Get a test done to find out."

I nodded as we sat down to dinner together.

Just a few minutes into dinner I was complimenting Bobby's cooking. It was amazing and I was going to let him know.