“Hey,” I murmur, sliding my hand just slightly, like I’m trying to memorize it. “Easy in there.”
Dani laughs softly. “He’s already stubborn.”
“Yeah,” I say, glancing down at her belly. “Got that from you.”
She nudges me lightly. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t even start,” I mutter, but there’s no bite to it.
I keep my hand there a second longer than I need to.
Because I want to.
Because even now, after every appointment, every quiet moment sitting beside her in waiting rooms I hate more than I can explain, every conversation Cami practically dragged me into therapy to have—
This still feels unreal.
I don’t miss a single appointment, don’t even consider it. Doesn’t matter how much I hate the sterile smell, the waiting, the not knowing. I show up because they matter more. Because she matters more.
Therapy didn’t fix everything. It didn’t erase what I lost or take away that instinct to brace, to prepare, to hold things tight just in case.
But it taught me how to stay in the moment. I don’t try to control how it ends.
And right now, in this moment, I don’t want to miss a second of it.
“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” Dani murmurs.
I huff quietly. “Always.”
Her hand comes up to my jaw, grounding, steady.
“You’re doing okay,” she says softly. And I know she means it. And for once, I believe it.
“Think she’s gonna find a better spot this time?” she asks, her voice lighter now.
“Not a chance,” I say, brushing my thumb once over her belly before letting my hand fall back to her waist.
She smiles.
And I feel it again, the kind of happiness I didn’t think I’d have, didn’t think I could afford. It surprises me every time how different the world feels from this side of things. There was a time I thought joy like this belonged only to other people, people who hadn’t lost what I lost. People who hadn’t spent years scraping by on habit and memory. I used to keep everything at arm’s length. I learned how to live with less.
Turns out, I didn’t have less.
I just hadn’t foundthisyet.
“Daddy-o!” Harper calls from somewhere down the hall. “You’re not looking, right?”
I close my eyes for half a second, then lean in, brushing one more quick kiss against Dani’s mouth.
“Duty calls,” I murmur.
She laughs softly, stepping back just enough to let me go.
“Go find her.”
I nod, but my hand lingers, just for a second, on the swell of her belly.
Just because I can.
