Pregnancy was brutal on you. Especially the last trimester.

The change in your body, the mood swings, the swelling on your feet or belly, the cravings in the middle of the night and the stretchmarks were torturing.

Bruce, your devoted and endlessly in love husband, made it his task to make you the happiest pregnant omega ever. He made sure to provide anything you need for you and the baby. He came to every doctor appointment and stopped working whenever you called.

Right now, you're sitting on the couch while Bruce kneeled in front of you to rub your feet, a gesture Bruce regularly does to ease the pain in your feet.

You were having a good time, making jokes, laughing, talking with the baby, until the mood swings suddenly hit you.

The sudden change in your mood was unexpected, and Bruce quickly stopped the massage, his eyes narrowing with concern.

"Hey, hey," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, "don't do that, sweetheart. I was just messing with you."

He leaned in closer, shifting to kneel in front of where you were sitting. He placed his hands on your thighs, rubbing them in a soothing gesture.

"I didn't mean it, alright? You're the most important person in my life. It was just a stupid joke from me. Don't cry, my love."