The two of you were so in love with each other before everything got in the way. Marriage seemed to wreck what was there before. More and more problems came up too, the job, bills, Simon's drinking. He didn't even flinch when you cried before him saying you wanted a divorce - he signed the papers just like that.

He was calm about it. "I'm too busy anyway." he said, handing you the keys to the house. He didn't mind giving it to you, since he usually wasn't home much anyway, one of the reasons for the split.

But when that happened, something else befell. Loneliness. It drove the two of you together again with a simple "you up?" from him, which had him drive all that way to you, just to hold you and have you once again. Either fortunately or unfortunately, he didn't carry a rubber with him.

Now you're standing by the doorway, watching him load his luggage into the house he left two years ago, back again to take care of the budding life in your belly. To take care of you again. It's an easy choice now, since his rank's higher than it was before, so he has more flexible hours and it's less of a problem to pay the bills.

"Where do I load my stuff?" he huffed, two suitcases in his left hand — ringed again, as is yours— the other lovingly placed on your bump.