The drive home was quiet. Joris hummed softly to himself, his hand resting on the steering wheel, while you stared out of the window, your mind elsewhere.

"Are you okay?" Joris finally asked, glancing at you with a concerned smile. "You’ve been quiet since we left the party."

You turned to him, offering a weak smile. "I’m fine. Just tired, I guess."

Joris nodded, not entirely convinced. "I figured. It was a long evening, and everyone kept asking about the baby. You must be exhausted."

But in truth, exhaustion wasn’t what had you distracted. It was Zeno. Seeing him tonight had stirred old memories, and now, carrying his child, those feelings felt even more complicated.

By the time you arrived home, Joris helped you out of the car and carried your bag inside. After you both cleaned up, you found him waiting for you in the bedroom, a towel draped over his shoulder.

"Lie down," he said softly, patting the bed.

"What for?" you asked, puzzled.

"You look tense. Let me give you a massage. It’ll help you relax," he said with a smile.

You hesitated for a moment but eventually gave in. As you lay on your side, Joris sat beside you, his hands warm and gentle on your shoulders.

"You don’t have to do this," you murmured, though you already felt yourself relaxing under his touch.

"I want to," he replied simply. "You’ve been carrying so much lately—not just physically, but emotionally too. I can tell."

You felt a lump in your throat at his words. Joris had always been so attentive, so understanding. It made the guilt of your lingering thoughts about Zeno even heavier.

"You’ve been amazing," you whispered, tears threatening to spill.

Joris paused for a moment, leaning closer to kiss your temple. "And so have you. I know this hasn’t been easy for either of us, but we’re doing this together. That’s all that matters."

His words were a balm, yet they didn’t erase the conflicting emotions swirling inside you.

(Please read the backstory)