Willow woke with a heaviness that did not belong to sleep alone. It clung to her body the way humidity clings to glass, thick and slow and impossible to shake off fully. For a mont she remained still, allowing her eyes to adjust to the pale streaks of morning light sliding through the curtains. Her head throbbed with the dull soreness that ca from too much thinking and not enough rest. Her shoulders felt stiff from lying curled too long in one position, and the base of her spine carried the familiar ache that had beco part of every morning now that she was thirty two weeks along.
Yet none of that was the reason she stayed still.
She remained motionless because the mory of the previous night rested warm and quiet in the center of her chest. She rembered Zane sitting on the floor beside the bed, his head resting near her hip as if the position allowed him to stay close without disturbing her. She rembered the low murmur of his voice when he thought she could not hear him, the careful way his hand had rested over her belly, and the steady rhythm of his breathing as he fought sleep so he would not miss any small movent she might make. At so point during the night she had woken briefly and found him still there, asleep on the floor with his fingers barely touching the edge of the mattress.
The mory filled her chest with a mixture of tenderness and guilt that made her throat tighten.
Slowly she pushed herself upright in the bed. Her joints protested as she moved, and her belly felt heavier this morning, round and warm beneath the soft cotton of her sleep shirt. Across the room, the blanket he had used during the night still lay draped over the sofa, slightly rumpled and pushed toward the edge where he must have left it before he went. Even that small detail made her chest clench.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood carefully, steadying herself with a hand against the dresser nearby. The wooden floor felt cold beneath her bare feet.
She moved through her morning routine with the slow focus of soone moving underwater. She brushed her teeth, splashed warm water across her face, and stepped into the shower. The warm water loosened the tightness in her shoulders and ran down the curve of her back while steam filled the small bathroom. For several quiet minutes she simply stood there, letting the warmth soften the ache in her muscles and the tension that had settled beneath her ribs during the night.
When she finished, she dried her hair with a towel and combed it until the strands fell loosely over her shoulders.
She chose a black jumper that felt soft and forgiving against her skin, brown leggings that stretched comfortably around her hips, and a long coat to guard against the morning chill. Every movent felt deliberate, as though her body and mind were still catching up with each other.
Her purse rested near the door by the ti she finished dressing. She slipped her phone from the charger and glanced down at the screen.
A ssage waited.
Zane: Good morning.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
The realization ca slowly. He must have seen her number in the hospital paperwork that had been scattered across the table, or perhaps he had noticed it on her phone when he reached for the blanket beside it during the night. Either way, the ssage felt strangely simple compared to the complicated reality of her life.
She did not reply.
She knew that if she answered him now she might unravel sothing she had spent the entire night trying to keep contained.
She slipped the phone into her purse and picked up her coat. As she reached for the door, the phone vibrated again.
Another notification appeared.
Victor: Ready when you are. I am downstairs.
The contrast between the two ssages landed sharply. Willow closed her eyes and let out a slow breath through her nose, trying to ease the tension tightening inside her chest.
She grabbed her purse, took one last look at the blanket left on the sofa, and forced herself toward the door.
The elevator ride down felt longer than usual even though it only spanned five floors. The soft hum of the machinery filled the silence, and the mirrored walls caught a washed out version of her face. Her eyes looked tired and her cheeks looked pale. She looked like a woman carrying more weight than just the child inside her.
When she stepped outside, cold morning air rushed against her cheeks, crisp and bright with the faint sll of exhaust from passing cars. A breeze tugged lightly at her coat.
Victor leaned against his SUV, sipping coffee from a paper cup. His shoulders were relaxed in the way that ca naturally to him. His expression softened the mont he saw her, and that familiar mixture of concern and quiet protectiveness slipped instantly into place.
Victor leaned against his SUV, sipping coffee from a paper cup. His shoulders were relaxed in the easy way that ca naturally to him, though his eyes lifted toward the building the mont the entrance door opened. When he saw Willow step outside, his expression softened imdiately and that familiar mixture of concern and quiet protectiveness settled across his face.
"You are ready," he said as he straightened and tossed the cup into a nearby bin.
His gaze flicked briefly past her shoulder toward the building entrance before returning to her again. The glance was quick enough that it could have ant nothing, yet the question behind it lingered quietly in the air.
She offered a small, polite smile.
"Just moving slowly today."
Victor nodded once, accepting the explanation without pressing further. Whatever questions crossed his mind remained unspoken.
He opened the passenger door for her with a practiced motion. The warmth of the interior wrapped around her imdiately. Soft classical piano was already playing through the speakers, and his travel mug still stead faintly in the holder. Willow settled carefully into the seat and adjusted the seatbelt beneath her belly, her fingers fidgeting briefly before she let them rest in her lap.
Victor closed the door and walked around the front of the vehicle before climbing into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and pulled smoothly away from the curb.
He drove the way he always did, steady and controlled. The hum of the air conditioning brushed softly across her face while early sunlight filtered through the windshield in pale gold lines. The scent of his coffee lingered faintly in the car.
For several minutes he said nothing.
Once, his gaze flicked briefly toward the apartnt building in the side mirror before returning to the road. The movent was small and careful, almost instinctive. If Zane had been there, Victor would have seen him.
He did not ask.
After a few more minutes Victor glanced sideways toward her.
"You okay?" he asked.
Willow kept her eyes on the passing sidewalks outside the window.
"Just tired."
Victor nodded slowly. The explanation did not quite convince him, but he did not push further.
"These mornings get harder the farther along you are," he said.
She did not answer, and the quiet settled between them again.
They passed the bakery with the pale green awning and the small bookstore she liked but had not visited in months. Two joggers crossed the intersection ahead of them, one laughing loudly while the other groaned as if the run had personally offended him.
Life moved forward around them, steady and indifferent.
Victor turned into the hospital lot and pulled into a spot near the entrance. He unbuckled, stepped out, and ca around to open her door before she could reach for the handle.
"You ready?" he asked gently.
Willow nodded and placed a hand on her belly. The baby shifted beneath her palm as if answering for her. Victor watched the movent with a soft warmth she was not sure she deserved.
They walked toward the hospital together. Their footsteps echoed across the clean pavent. The automatic doors slid open with a low chanical sound, and antiseptic scented air washed over them.
Inside, the receptionist looked up from her desk with a bright, welcoming smile the mont they stepped through the doors.
"And here the beautiful couple are," she said cheerfully. "You are early today."
Willow felt her breath catch at the words. The simple assumption landed in her chest with a quiet weight that made it suddenly harder to breathe.
Victor did not correct her.
He accepted the check-in papers the receptionist handed over and thanked her politely before turning back toward Willow. His hand hovered near the small of her back as they walked toward the elevators, close enough to steady her if she needed support but careful not to touch unless she asked for it.
Willow continued forward beside him without speaking.
The hallway stretched ahead of them, bright and spotless beneath the overhead lights. Posters about newborn care lined the walls, their soft pastel colors and smiling infants creating an atmosphere that was ant to feel calm and reassuring. Willow drew in a slow breath as they walked, steadying herself against the quiet pressure building inside her chest.
The day had barely begun, and already the first crack had appeared.
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