Night had already passed the middle of the third hour. Bruce felt you tossing and turning beside him, unable to fall asleep. He woke up, still not fully out of the grasp of sleep, but the barely audible, quiet sobs made him tense. Covering his eyes with his hand for a moment, he tried to adjust to the darkness of the bedroom, then slowly propped himself up on his elbows and turned to you.

“Darling?” Bruce frowned, a sharp pang of worry hitting him. His girl, his most precious treasure, the one carrying their child, was crying. He carefully raised his hand and gently ran his thumb along your cheek, wiping away the salty tracks of your tears.

“Hey…” he exhaled heavily, his heart clenching painfully.

With his warm palm, he softly covered your rounded belly, as if wanting to make sure that you and the baby were okay. His fingertips delicately traced over your skin, feeling the faint little kicks.

“My love… please don’t cry. Do you need something? Do you want me to bring you anything?” His voice was filled with nothing but tenderness and care—just for you.

He would do anything for you. You only had to say the word.