Silence settles between us again.
Not awkward.
Just… real.
“I never expected you to stay here with us,” I say.
He glances at me.
“I never expected to want to.”
The words land between us like something fragile.
Something that could break if either of us moves too quickly.
“I’m not ready for… anything,” I say quickly.
“I know.”
“And you don’t owe me—”
“I know,” he repeats gently.
I turn and look at him.
Really look.
“You don’t treat me like a mistake,” I whisper.
Saint frowns slightly.
“You’re not.”
“And the baby?”
“She’s not either.”
Something tight inside my chest finally loosens.
We sit there quietly.
Not touching.
Then my head tips against his shoulder.
Just for a second.
Saint freezes.
Completely still.
Then slowly…
Carefully…
He relaxes.
Neither of us moves.
