He huffs a quiet laugh. “That conversation is about logistics. This is not.”
I lean back into the couch cushions, suddenly aware of how tired I still am, how much my body has been through. He adjusts immediately, pulling the blanket higher around my shoulders.
“Schatz,” he says without thinking, the word slipping out like it’s always been there.
I freeze. He freezes, too. We stare at each other for a beat, then another.
“Well,” he clears his throat. “That was… presumptuous.”
“I didn’t hate it,” I whisper softly.
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Good.”
His hand returns to my stomach, gentler now. “You’re doing a good job,” he says, and I know he doesn’t just mean being sick and still standing. He means everything.
Lucy stirs down the hall, a small sound, half dream, half complaint.
He looks toward the hallway instinctively, already halfway to getting up.
“She’s fine,” I say. “Just dreaming.”
He sits back, but his attention doesn’t fully leave the door.
“You know,” he says after a moment, “I used to think love was a burden, another responsibility that would mangle your dreams.”
“And now?”
“And now,” he says, glancing back at me, “I know it’s something you build and care for, on purpose or something completely unexpected in the best possible way.”
“Like Lucy.” I swallow hard.
His smile broadens. “I know this is early days, and although you know how un-fucking-believable I am in bed.”
“You are so full of your?—”
“Oh no, you don’t.” He laughs fully, and God, I already love that sound. “I have recently been knocked down a notch or twenty.”
“Is that so?” I roll my eyes.
“Until recently, I would have said unforgettable, but clearly that is not the case.”
I sigh, “So were doing this already.”
“This?”
“This conversation about gaslighting and?—”
“I did not gaslight you,” he defends, fully amused. I reach over and tug on his now bearded face. “Ouch.”
“Don’t be a baby, I was just checking to see if it was real or part of that disguise I now know you were donning.”
“Two things can be true at once,” he states.
I make a face. “Oh God, you’re one of those?”
“One of those?” he asks.
“Who uses that line instead of an actual argument with facts and?—”
