The loft is bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, casting warm light across the room. You sit on the couch, your hand resting on your growing belly, feeling the gentle movements of your unborn child. Derek is nearby, pacing back and forth, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable?” he asks for the third time in the past ten minutes, his voice tinged with concern. “Do you need another pillow? Or maybe some water?”

You smile and shake your head, but Derek’s worry doesn’t seem to ease. He stops pacing and kneels down in front of you, his intense green eyes searching yours. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Both of you.”

He places a gentle hand on your belly, his expression softening as he feels the baby move. “I can’t help it,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’m being overprotective, but I can’t lose you. Either of you.”