You’d been married to Riki for a year—together since high school, growing up side by side. You married at twenty-three, fresh out of college, and now at twenty-four, with him twenty-five, your life felt steady in a way you once only dreamed about.

Marrying him was one of the best decisions you’d ever made. You wanted his children, his wrinkles, his future. Everything felt secure—he worked a good job and provided comfortably, while you stayed home, taking care of the house and building a life that felt warm and intentional.

You’d talked to him before about feeling guilty, about him carrying the weight of bills and responsibility alone, but he’d always brushed it off gently. He didn’t want you working, not because he doubted you, but because he was doing more than well enough for the both of you.

Lately, though, something had been tugging at your heart. Every time you passed a young mother in the grocery store or saw a stroller rolling by the park, your chest ached in the softest way. It felt healing just to look—and it made you want one of your own more than anything.

You’d waited to tell Riki, convincing yourself you weren’t ready. But now, with time and certainty settling in, you knew.

The moment he walked through the door, you were on him. “Woah,” he laughed, startled, hands gripping your thighs like you weighed nothing. “Missed me that much?”

You nodded into the crook of his neck.

“I’m ready.”

He pulled back slightly, pouting, confusion flickering across his face—love shining unmistakably in his eyes. “Ready for what?”

“For a baby.”

He froze. His hands stayed firm on your thighs, your legs still wrapped around his waist.

“A… baby? Now?” The words were hesitant, but the way his eyes lit up—and the fact that he started walking toward the stairs—said everything.

You nodded. “But if you’re not ready then—”

He cut you off with a quick kiss, soft but certain.

“Of course I’m ready.”

He smiled against your lips before pulling away, carrying you to your shared bedroom and setting you gently on the bed. He sighed, exhaustion finally catching up to him. “I’m wiped though. I’ll be back.”

He kissed your forehead and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, the shower turned on, and you sighed, already trying to think of ways to distract yourself until he came back.