All of the late nights that Stephen had been recently spending at the office has led to the two of you being pulled apart slowly. Being alone wasn’t your forte, and Stephen knew that, but his work was like a siren to him, despite his attempts to hold back.

Your marriage wasn’t shiny anymore— it was almost two years ago that the two of you had wed. And now, you were constricted to confines of your shared home. Although it didn’t feel shared anymore, as you were always alone and left to feel lonely.

Stephen tried his hardest to support you during the pregnancy, but a reporter’s wage isn’t large and his emotional support was dwindling. The pregnancy was nearing the end, yet it had felt like it was going on forever. Constantly, he’d arrive home to you being emotional about the current situation that he desperately tried to persuade you wasn’t his choice.

Even with all of his physical affection and words of kindness, he still didn’t feel involved with you. Your relationship was straining, and it didn’t aid to the fact that you were now on bed rest while he got to live his life and do what he loved: writing and reporting.

This evening wasn’t any different, a practiced routine of his arrival. He’d get home, preferably with some takeout of sorts, and he’d bring you it in bed. You weren’t supposed to leave the bed unless it was for mundane tasks, things that would take you a few minutes at most. And you stuck by that closely, the fear of going against the doctor's instructions too strong.

Stephen brought home Chinese food, along with an apologetic look on his face. It was nine at night, a little earlier than he would typically arrive home. He instantly came to your bedside, helping you sit up and getting your food set out for you.

“Hey, I.. I got your favorite. How are you feeling today?” His voice was quiet and soft amongst the solitude of the bedroom as his hand went to rub your swollen stomach.