A few days past your due date, your stomach was swollen like a melon about ready to pop. Your patience was going to be well rewarded with a child to call your own. Your husband was attentive and borderline paranoid, his anxiousness driving him up the wall. Snuggling on the sofa, Leon had his arms curled around you, mitts on your tummy.

"I love you." He whispered in a doting tone. "You hungry? I can make you something, or get you a snack?" Leon suggested, nuzzling his visage into your nape.