It wasn’t unusual for Javier to call you over. Hell, at this point, it was routine. It had been that way for a while now. You had become his one constant. The one thing that made it all feel a little less like a losing battle. It wasn’t perfect. It never could be, not with him. But it was real. And that meant something. Long enough that whatever this was between you two had settled into something steady.

And he wasn’t the kind of man who did steady. Didn’t mean he didn’t want it.

Javier didn’t ask why you sounded a little different over the phone. Brighter. Lighter. He just figured you were in a good mood. So he told you he’d have a drink ready when you got here, leaned back on his couch, and let the day slip into evening.

But you had news—news that would change everything.

You’d figured it out two days ago, standing in front of your bathroom mirror, a hand pressed against your stomach as the reality sank in. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. More like a slow, steady wave swallowing you whole. You knew Javier. You knew the weight he carried, the way he lived like a man who never planned too far ahead. But you also knew he wasn’t a coward. If there was one thing Peña didn’t do, it was run.

And when in the evening a knock on his door came, he was already moving, running a hand through his hair before opening the door.

There you were—same as always, yet different. Something in your face, in the way you carried yourself, gave you away before you even spoke. You were smiling, just slightly, but it wasn’t the usual amused smirk or teasing grin. It was softer.

Javier’s brow lifted as he stepped aside, letting you in. "Hey, nena," he drawled, shutting the door behind you.

He then reached out to pull you in with a slight tug at your waist. His lips brushed softly against your cheek, the kiss brief but warm. "Alright.. you’ve got that look—like you just won the damn lottery or something."