Not uncomfortable. Just… loaded.
Dan’s eyes flick down to my mouth.
And I feel brave. Reckless, almost.
Before I can overthink it, I lean in and kiss him.
Not a peck. A proper kiss. Our tongues sliding against one another. For a second, it’s clumsy. We bump noses. Our teeth knock slightly. We both let out a tiny, surprised laugh against each other’s mouths.
And then it settles.
His hand slides up my back. Mine grips his shoulder. The kiss deepens. It’s not wild or urgent. But it’s real. It’s us.
Heat flickers low in my stomach. My body responds faster than my brain.
Dan pulls back just enough to look at me.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
The question throws me.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I just… wanted to.”
Something shifts in his expression. Relief? Hope? He kisses me again, slower this time. His hand drifts down my side, fingers grazing the curve of my hip.
And then…
The baby monitor crackles.
We both freeze.
Silence.
Then Ruby’s unmistakable cough. Dan groans softly, dropping his forehead to mine.
“Of course,” he mutters. I almost laugh.
“It’s fine,” I whisper, even though my heart is racing and my body is half-awake in a way it hasn’t been for months.
Ruby coughs again. Dan pulls back first this time.
“I’ll get her,” he says.
It surprises me.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He presses a quick kiss to my lips and swings his legs out of bed. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, pulse still thudding. That was something. Not productive. Not obligatory. Something.
I hear him in Ruby’s room, his voice low and soothing. She cries harder at first. Then quieter.
My chest tightens. Part pride. Part guilt. Part something else.
He comes back ten minutes later, Ruby on his hip. She’s reaching for me immediately.
“Mummy,” she whimpers. Dan hesitates just a fraction before passing her over. The moment breaks. Completely. I shift to sit up, pulling Ruby into my chest. She burrows into me, satisfied. Dan watches us for a second.
