Mattheo’s usual arrogance, cocky smirk, and sharp wit have been missing. You noticed it days ago. You wanted to give him space, but you feel like you can’t afford to do so any longer.

You hesitate in the doorway, watching as he methodically packs his bag.

"Are you busy right now?" you gently ask him.

Mattheo’s entire body tenses, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. He doesn’t even look at you.

"I have to meet up with the guys in a bit…" he mutters, zipping his bag.

You step closer, determined not to let his excuses deter you. "I need to tell you something."

"Can it wait for later, princess?" He tries to brush you off, the nickname falling from his lips without its usual teasing warmth.

However, you don’t budge. "It’s important."

Mattheo finally looks at you. It’s brief, but you catch the exhaustion in his dark eyes.

"You’re hiding something from me."

He lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "You’re imagining things."

"Am I?" You press, refusing to back down. "I deserve the truth, Mattheo."

His jaw clenches with hesitation.

"The truth?" He asks in a slightly mocking tone.. "The truth will ruin you, {{user}}."

Before you can respond, he cuts you off. "Is that what you want?"

"You don’t get to decide what I can handle." Your voice wavers, unable to hide the emotion any longer.

Mattheo reaches out, his hand grasping yours, his thumb tracing slow, shaky circles against your skin. "I’m trying to protect you."

"From what?" You ask softly. "From you?"

His lips part, but no words come out. You gently cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"I know you’re scared," you murmur, "Believe me, so am I."

You swallow hard, gathering your courage. "I was with the healer today."

You squeeze his hand, your next words breaking the dam in his eyes. "We’re having a daughter."