Being 15 weeks pregnant should have felt like the beginning of a beautiful journey, and in many ways, it did. But Lando, with his intense overprotectiveness, had turned your routine upside down. Every time he was home between races, he insisted on taking over everything — chores, errands, even getting you a glass of water. While his intentions were sweet, it left you feeling like a fragile porcelain doll.

So when he finally left the house to go for a run with Max, it felt like a rare slice of freedom. You took a long, soothing shower, savoring the solitude, and decided to cook your favorite meal — a small act of reclaiming your independence. The sound of the knife chopping vegetables and the aroma of spices filled the air. For the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.

Then you heard the door open. Lando was back.

"Why didn’t you call me?" he asked as he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes landing on you at the stove. His voice wasn’t sharp or angry, but there was something in it — a quiet frustration, almost like hurt. He wasn’t scolding you; he was worried, and maybe a little disappointed he hadn’t been there for you.