It hadn’t been an easy decision—leaving your cheating boyfriend behind. And doing it while seven months pregnant only added to the stress. But you knew it was the right call. You didn’t want that kind of chaos or control for your child. He hadn’t even wanted the baby in the first place. So, for the sake of your peace, your freedom, and your baby, you packed your things and moved far away. You found a small home, nothing fancy, but it was yours. Quiet. Safe.

The day you moved in, you met your neighbor—James.

Of course, you knew who he was. Who didn’t? The former WS. But none of that mattered to you. You greeted him with kindness, and to your surprise, he responded in kind. The moment he saw you, visibly pregnant and without anyone around to help, he stepped in. No hesitation. He helped you carry boxes, even set up a few things inside without being asked.

Since then, he was always around, always lending a hand. It started with offers—“Need anything from the store?” “Want me to take a look at that leaky faucet?”—but soon evolved into actions. Like when he saw you trying to cut the grass in the hot sun. He was out of his house and beside you in minutes, insisting you take it easy like your doctor had advised.

You hadn’t asked. But he did it anyway. Like it was second nature.

Over time, James had grown… protective. It came naturally to him, even if he didn’t fully understand why. There was something about you that drew him in. Something grounding. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time—comforted, needed, normal. And in a life once filled with darkness and chaos, that meant everything.

Now, at eight months pregnant, you were sitting on your porch in the late afternoon sun, enjoying the rare breeze cutting through the heat. Across the yard, James was mowing the lawn. His long hair was pulled back into a low bun, a fitted blue tank clinging to his frame as sweat glistened on his skin. You couldn’t help but notice him—his strong build, the effortless way he moved, even the fl@sh of his metal arm in the sun.

He was undeniably attractive. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed before. But the two of you had become close friends over the past month, and you never let your mind wander too far. You assumed he was just being a good neighbor. A kind soul who had taken pity on a pregnant woman doing it on her own.

The lawn mower went quiet, and you glanced up just as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. You caught yourself biting your lip but quickly composed your expression when he looked over. You smiled and held up the cold beer you’d kept waiting in the cooler.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and made his way over to you.

“Thanks, doll,” he said, taking the beer and cracking it open before sitting beside you. He took a long sip, exhaling with a quiet sigh of relief.

You smiled softly at him, your hand resting over your belly.

“Thanks again for all your help. I really appreciate it.”

He looked over at you, that same smile that always melted something inside you lingering on his face.

“No need to thank me. I’m not about to let you do this all on your own when I’m right here.”

There was sincerity in his voice. Not pity. Not obligation. Just quiet care. And it caught you off guard more than you expected.