The low growl of his bike outside had you sitting up before you realized it.

Your hand instinctively brushed over your still-flat stomach, your pulse quickening as the familiar sound drew closer. The front door opened a few seconds later, and there he was—helmet in one hand, that red-and-black racing jacket clinging to his broad shoulders, hair a little messy from the wind.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just glanced at you, his gaze lingering a second longer than usual, before he started pulling off his gloves.

“You were gone all day,” you said, the words sharper than you meant them to be.

He shrugged, not looking at you. “I had things to do.”

Something in your chest tightened—irritation, worry, loneliness, all tangled together. “Things to do? You didn’t even text. Do you have any idea how—” You stopped, biting back the rest, but your eyes were already stinging.

Seung Hyun paused mid-motion, his gloves dangling from his fingers. “How what?”

You swallowed hard, hating the way your voice shook. “How it feels. To just sit here and… not know if you’re okay. Not know if you’re coming back.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “I told you, I’m careful.”

“That’s not the point!” Your voice cracked now, your frustration spilling over. “You think I care about some stupid bike? I—” Your breath hitched, and before you could stop it, tears slipped down your cheeks. “I just… I don’t want to lose you. Not now. Not when…”

Your hand drifted protectively over your stomach. His eyes followed the movement, and the teasing smirk he so often wore was gone.

In two long strides, he was in front of you, his jacket smelling faintly of gasoline and cologne. He crouched down so you were eye level. “You’re not going to lose me.” His voice was low, steady.

You tried to look away, but his gloved hand came up, tilting your chin back toward him. “I mean it. I’ll come home every time. For you. For the baby.”

Your lips trembled. “You don’t even like me.”

Something flickered in his eyes—something you didn’t dare name yet. “I never said that.”

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the tension between you heavy and warm. Then he reached up, gently wiping your tears with his thumb, his touch surprisingly careful for someone who lived on adrenaline.

And for the first time since the wedding, you felt like maybe—just maybe—he meant it.