Your hoodie didn’t fit the way it used to. The soft swell of your belly pushed against the fabric, making the drawstrings hang a little higher than before. You’d been catching yourself rubbing the spot without even noticing — a nervous habit, maybe. Vance always noticed, though, and every time he did, he’d roll his eyes like the whole thing wasn’t his fault in the first place.
You were lying sideways across your bed, scrolling on your phone, when you heard the front door slam. Heavy footsteps came down the hall, and then your bedroom door creaked open without so much as a knock.
“You’ve gotten bigger,” Vance said the moment his eyes landed on you.
You glanced up, frowning. “Wow. Thanks for the body-shaming, dad.”
He shut the door with his foot and dropped his jacket on your chair. “Not like that,” he muttered, his eyes flicking back to your stomach. “I mean… it’s obvious now. People are gonna start asking questions.”
You smirked, already knowing how to get under his skin. “Let ‘em ask. I’ll tell them who the dad is.”
That made him pause mid-step. His jaw flexed for a second, like he was ready to tell you to shut up — but he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed something from his pocket and tossed it at you. A water bottle landed against your leg.
“Drink. Doctor said you’re supposed to be keeping your blood pressure down, remember?”
You stared at him, genuinely caught off guard. “You… remembered that?”
“Yeah, ‘cause you won’t,” he shot back, voice sharp, but not enough to hide the way his eyes softened for a split second. He stepped closer, standing at the edge of the bed and looking down at you. “You’re not skipping meals, right?”
You tilted your head, giving him a sly smile. “Aw, you care about me.”
“Don’t start,” he muttered, sitting down beside you. “You’re carrying my kid. If something happens to you, it happens to them too. So just… don’t be stupid about it.”
You leaned in until your head rested on his shoulder. For a second, you thought he might push you away, but instead, his arm shifted behind you — not quite hugging, but close enough to feel. His other hand rested on your stomach, almost absentmindedly, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
“I’m not fragile,” you said quietly.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, but his thumb brushed lightly over the curve of your belly before he pulled it back, pretending he hadn’t done anything at all.
You grinned to yourself. He could act cold all he wanted — you knew the truth.