The maternity wing had felt warr than the lobby when they first arrived, the air heavy with lavender air freshener layered over the sharper scent of antiseptic. By the ti they left, Willow felt as though the air itself had followed her ho, clinging to her skin long after the class ended.
Now the quiet of her apartnt wrapped around her like a soft exhale.
Willow lowered herself slowly onto the couch, leaning her head back as the fatigue settled deeper into her muscles. The Braxton Hicks tightening had faded during the drive ho, but the lingering exhaustion still pressed through her body in waves. She rested one hand along the side of her belly, not because it hurt but because the contact steadied her.
Victor stood in the doorway for a mont after they entered, watching her carefully.
"Better?" he asked.
She nodded, although her pulse still had not completely settled. "Yeah. It’s passing."
He studied her for another mont before moving quietly into the kitchen.
The kettle clicked on and the gentle rush of heating water filled the apartnt. Victor opened the cupboard without hesitation and reached for the chamomile tin she always kept on the second shelf. Within minutes the faint scent of the tea drifted into the living room.
Willow watched him from the couch without speaking. The quiet authority in the way he moved made it clear that arguing would accomplish nothing.
Victor returned with the mug and set it on the coffee table in front of her.
Victor placed the mug of chamomile on the bedside table and lingered beside the bed a mont longer than necessary. Willow could feel the pause even with her eyes half closed. He was watching her the way he always did when sothing had unsettled her and he was deciding how far he was allowed to ask about it.
"You didn’t say much on the drive back," he said quietly.
Willow shifted slightly against the pillows and wrapped her fingers around the warm mug. "I’m tired."
"I know you are," he replied calmly. "That isn’t exactly what I ant."
She lifted the mug and took a small sip, letting the warmth settle in her stomach before answering. The pause gave her just enough ti to choose her words carefully.
Victor leaned his shoulder lightly against the wall near the door. His posture was relaxed, but his attention remained on her.
"I left the two of you alone last night," he said after a mont. "I figured you might want the space."
Willow’s fingers tightened slightly around the mug.
"Yes."
Victor nodded slowly. He had expected that answer.
"How long did he stay?"
"Not long."
Her response ca easily, but it closed more doors than it opened. Victor noticed.
"And?"
Willow looked down at the faint steam rising from the tea, watching it disappear into the air.
"And nothing," she said gently.
Victor studied her face for a mont, curiosity flickering quietly behind his expression. He had known her long enough to recognize when she had reached the edge of what she was willing to share.
Still, he allowed himself one more question.
Victor rested his shoulder lightly against the wall near the bedroom door. He watched her for a mont before speaking, as though weighing whether the question was worth asking.
"Zane ca by the other night," he said.
Willow kept her eyes on the tea in her hands.
"Yes."
Victor nodded slowly.
"I figured he might have stayed."
"He did."
The answer was simple, but it carried just enough finality to signal she was not eager to explain more.
Victor studied her quietly, noticing the way she held the mug with both hands and the careful calm in her voice. None of it looked dramatic. If anything, she seed more contained than usual.
"That must have been unexpected," he said.
"It was."
He waited a mont, but Willow did not continue. She took another small sip of the tea and lowered the mug again.
Victor understood the signal. He had known Willow long enough to recognize when she had reached the edge of what she was willing to say.
"All right," he said after a mont.
He pushed himself away from the wall and stepped closer to the bed. The blanket had shifted slightly near her shoulder, and he adjusted it without making a point of the gesture.
"That’s enough conversation for today."
Willow let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding.
Victor noticed, but he did not comnt on it.
"You need sleep more than you need questions," he said quietly.
She nodded.
"I know."
His gaze lingered briefly, the curiosity still there beneath the surface, but he let it go.
"Promise you’ll sleep," he said.
"I promise."
Victor gave a small nod, accepting the answer without pressing further. "I’ll head out. The soup should arrive soon. It’s on the kitchen counter."
Willow shifted slightly on the pillow and looked toward him. "You don’t have to leave."
Victor’s expression softened into a faint smile that carried more patience than sadness. "You’ll rest better if the apartnt is quiet."
He turned toward the door and took a few steps into the hallway, then paused as if rembering sothing. Looking back into the room, he added gently, "If anything feels off, you call . Even if you think it’s nothing."
"I will."
Victor reached for the bedside lamp and switched it off, leaving the room in a soft wash of afternoon shadow. For a mont he remained there, making sure she had settled comfortably beneath the blanket. When she did not move again, he stepped quietly out of the bedroom.
Willow listened as his footsteps moved through the apartnt. She heard the faint sounds of him gathering his things, the quiet clink of a dish being moved in the kitchen, and the soft rustle of a cupboard closing. A mont later the front door opened. The hallway outside carried a brief breath of distant building noise before the door closed again.
Silence settled slowly into the apartnt after he left, filling the rooms with a calm that felt both peaceful and strangely heavy.
Silence settled slowly into the apartnt after he left, filling the rooms with a calm that felt both peaceful and strangely heavy.
Willow remained still for a long mont, listening to it. The quiet was different when soone else had just walked out of it. The walls seed to hold the faint echo of Victor’s steady presence, the way he moved through a space with quiet certainty, tidying problems without drawing attention to the effort.
Her hand drifted slowly over the curve of her belly beneath the blanket.
"Well," she murmured softly, her voice barely louder than the room itself. "It’s just us again."
The baby shifted faintly under her palm, a slow rolling movent that felt almost like an answer. Willow let out a small breath and closed her eyes for a mont.
"You’re going to have very complicated adults around you," she whispered. "I hope you’re patient."
Her fingers traced a slow circle over the fabric of her shirt. Talking like this had beco a habit lately. Not full conversations, not exactly. More like thoughts she allowed herself to say out loud when no one else could hear them.
"I’m trying to do this right," she continued quietly. "I really am."
The words hung in the air for a mont before fading into the silence.
Outside the apartnt, sowhere in the building, a distant door closed and footsteps passed down the hallway. Life moved on in quiet rhythms that had nothing to do with the storm inside her head.
Willow opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.
"You deserve stability," she told the small life beneath her hand. "Not chaos."
The baby moved again, softer this ti.
A faint smile touched her lips despite the heaviness in her chest.
"Your timing is terrible," she murmured gently. "You know that?"
The smile faded slowly as the familiar thoughts returned, circling the sa questions she had been trying to quiet all morning.
Victor’s steadiness.
Zane’s fire.
Two completely different kinds of gravity pulling at the sa life.
Willow pressed her palm a little more firmly against her belly.
"Don’t worry," she whispered. "I’ll figure it out."
Even as she said it, she knew the truth.
So choices did not co with solutions.
Only consequences.
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