The bell above the door of Family Video hasn’t rung in almost twenty minutes.

It’s one of those slow afternoons where time drags just enough to make everything feel heavier than it should. The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead while the faint sound of a movie plays on one of the display TVs, forgotten in the background.

You’re perched on the counter, one hand resting absently over your stomach as you watch Steve attempt to reorganize a section of tapes he’s already fixed twice.

He’s trying to look busy.

He’s been doing that a lot lately.

“Okay, but I’m telling you,” Steve says, glancing back at you with a slight grin, “if someone rents this and says it’s better than the first one, I’m banning them from the store.”

Robin snorts from behind the counter. “You can’t ban customers, dingus.”

“I absolutely can,” Steve shoots back. “I have authority now.”

“You alphabetize tapes, Harrington. That’s not authority.”

You can’t help the small laugh that slips out, and Steve’s expression softens immediately when he hears it, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.

There she is.

That look.

Like hearing you laugh is still his favorite thing.

It hadn’t always been like this.

A year and a half ago, everything had been different.

You and Steve had found each other after everything with Nancy ended, after the dust had settled and something new had quietly started between you. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t forced—just… real.

Until the night it wasn’t.

He’d gotten drunk.

Too drunk.

And the next morning—

Nancy had been there.

He told you right away.

Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t hide it.

He looked sick just saying it, swearing he didn’t remember anything, swearing he would never have done that to you on purpose. And you believed him.

But that didn’t stop the damage.

Then Nancy got pregnant.

And just when everything felt like it couldn’t possibly get worse—

So did you.

Two weeks ahead of her.

Six months later, you and Steve were still here. Still trying. Still holding onto something that refused to break completely, no matter how much strain had been put on it.

Steve had made one thing clear from the start.

He was staying with you.

He’d take responsibility for the baby Nancy was carrying—but he wasn’t going back to her.

Not like that.

Not ever again.

“You okay?” Steve asks suddenly, his voice softer now as he walks back over, leaning his arms on the counter in front of you. His eyes flick briefly to your stomach before meeting yours again.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Just tired.”

His expression shifts instantly—concern, gentle and immediate.

“Hey, you should be sitting, not up here,” he murmurs, already reaching out like he’s about to help you down.

“I am sitting, Steve.”

“Yeah, on the world’s most uncomfortable counter.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, she’s fine. Relax.”

Steve shoots her a look but doesn’t argue, his attention already back on you, thumb brushing lightly against your wrist.

Then—

The bell above the door rings.

All three of you look up.

And immediately—

Everything shifts.

Nancy Wheeler steps inside.

The air feels different instantly.

Tighter.

Heavier.

Robin goes still behind the counter.

Steve doesn’t move.

Not right away.

Nancy’s eyes find him first. Then you.

And for just a second, something flickers across her expression—something unreadable, something sharp beneath the calm she tries to hold.

“Hey,” she says softly.

Steve straightens slightly, his jaw tightening just enough for you to notice.

“…Hey,” he replies.

There’s a pause.

Then she steps further inside, letting the door fall shut behind her.

“I didn’t think you’d be working today,” she adds, her voice light—but there’s something under it. Something careful.

Something deliberate.

Steve doesn’t respond right away.

Because his hand is still resting against yours.

And he hasn’t moved it.