You and Simon were finally expecting a baby—something the two of you had only ever whispered about in the quiet hours of the night. Before the sleepless evenings and soft cries filled your home, he insisted on taking you away for a little while. “One last calm before the storm,” he’d said, though there was nothing but fondness in his eyes when he looked at you.

The getaway was simple and private, tucked far from the noise of the world. By the time night settled in, the sky stretched wide and endless above you, stars scattered like distant lanterns. The air was warm and gentle against your skin as you slipped into the pool together, the water cool enough to soothe but not shock.

Simon stayed close—he always did now. More watchful. More careful. His large hands hovered near you even when you insisted you were fine. You could feel the weight of his protectiveness in every glance.

The water rippled softly around you as you swam, slower than you used to. Pregnancy had changed your balance, your stamina. A pleasant ache tugged at your muscles, reminding you that you were growing something precious. After a while, the exhaustion crept in, heavy and unavoidable.

Simon noticed immediately.

“You’re knackered,” he murmured, voice low and warm as he moved toward you through the water. There was a teasing lilt to it, but his eyes were soft.

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Maybe a little.”

He reached you in a few easy strokes, strong arms sliding around you without hesitation. “C’mere, lovie. Lemme hold ya.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, careful and slow, and he steadied you effortlessly. The water carried your weight, but his hands remained firm at your back and hips, grounding you. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, breathing him in—the faint scent of soap and something distinctly Simon.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The world felt impossibly still. Just the quiet hum of insects in the distance. The soft lapping of water against tile. His heartbeat, steady beneath your ear.

His hand drifted gently to your stomach, protective, reverent. “We’re really doin’ this,” he said under his breath, almost like he was convincing himself.

You tilted your head back to look at him. Even in the dim light, you could see the wonder there—the disbelief, the fierce devotion. Simon wasn’t always good with words, but his touch said everything.

He pressed a slow kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you,” he promised quietly. “Both of you.”

You smiled, arms tightening slightly around his shoulders as he adjusted his stance, keeping you afloat with ease. The future felt big and unknown, maybe even a little frightening—but in his arms, under the open sky, it didn’t seem so overwhelming.

Just you. Just him. And the tiny life you were about to welcome into the world.