Her stomach growls.
She exhales. “Okay. Breakfast is happening.”
“Excellent decision,” I say.
She stretches carefully, already mentally lining the day up.
“Before we do,” I say quietly, “can we talk for a minute?”
She stills.
Just a flicker. But I see it. The way her shoulders tense, the way her eyes search my face like she’s bracing for impact.
“Okay,” she says. “About what?”
I take a breath. Keep my voice steady. No speeches. No declarations. Just truth.
“I’ve been wondering,” I say, “if maybe we shouldn’t… give this a chance.”
Her brow furrows. “This?”
“Us,” I say. “Whatever we’re calling it when we’re not calling it anything.”
She watches me carefully. Not pulling away. Not leaning in either.
“What do you mean by a chance?” she asks.
I run a hand through my hair. “I mean, we’re already having a baby. We already live together. We’re already friends with a lot of benefits.” I huff a small laugh. “Very good benefits.”
Her mouth twitches.
“I just mean,” I continue, “we already do the hard bits together. The practical stuff. The listening. The showing up. And the sex is… well. Clearly not a problem anymore.”
She lets out a breath. Then another.
“And you’re saying what?” she says carefully. “We try being together?”
“I’m saying we stop pretending we’re not circling the same thing,” I reply. “And see what happens if we walk towards it instead.”
There it is. Out in the open. No fireworks. Just honesty.
She looks down at the duvet, fingers worrying the edge.
“What if it doesn’t work?” she asks quietly.
The question isn’t dramatic. It’s scared. And fair.
“Then it doesn’t,” I say. “And we deal with that. Like we’ve dealt with everything else so far. Grown-ups. Together.”
She swallows. “What if we mess it up?”
I shift closer, not touching yet. Giving her space to breathe.
“We might,” I say. “I’m not brilliant at this. You know that. But I also know that not trying because it might hurt feels worse than trying and finding out.”
She nods slowly. Processing. Considering.
“And this wouldn’t be,” she gestures vaguely between us, “a dramatic thing.”
