Ash was exhausted. His whole body ached from the day. He’d barely kicked off his shoes when he’d been thrown into the whirlwind that was you. Six months pregnant and carrying his kid, you were glowing, stunning, and at the same time—unpredictable as hell.

Tonight alone had been a marathon of meltdowns. You cried because the spaghetti didn’t taste the way you wanted it to. You’d yelled at him for not finding his hoodie, cause you absolutely wanted to wear this one. You’d broken down in tears again when your pajama top wouldn’t sit right over your bump. And then, out of nowhere, you’d clung to him, muttering against his chest that you didn’t want him to leave you—like he ever could.

He hadn’t eaten more than three bites of dinner. The plate had gone cold on the counter while he rubbed your back, held you through tears, and let you rant. No shower, no quiet, no real break. But still, Ash didn’t complain. He knew. He knew. You were literally growing a life inside you, his life, your child. And if handling your moods was the price, he’d pay it a thousand times.

Now, it was almost midnight. You were finally calm, your head tucked in the crook of his neck, your breath soft and even as you slept. Ash lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling in the dark, his hand resting protectively over your belly, feeling the occasional twitch of the baby inside.

But he could feel the grit of the day on his skin, the stickiness of sweat under his shirt. If he didn’t shower, he’d feel gross all night. Slowly, carefully, he shifted. Your fingers twitched against him, gripping tighter for a second before loosening again. He held his breath as he slipped from your arms and eased out of bed, slowly not to wake you up.

Ash stood there a moment, watching you, his chest aching with something soft and raw. Even after all the slammed doors, the sharp words, the tears—he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

He ran a tired hand down his face and headed for the shower. Just ten minutes, he told himself. A quick shower. Then he’d climb back into bed, wrap himself around you, and hold on until morning.