He stayed there.
On his knees.
Arms wrapped around her.
Head resting against her stomach.
Breathing slow.
Unsteady.
Leah's fingers moved gently through his black hair.
Soft.
Careful.
She didn't move.
Didn't interrupt.
Just stayed with him.
Then—
his hand shifted slightly.
Resting more firmly against her stomach.
Fingers splayed.
Protective.
A small breath left him.
"…You're really there…"
Quiet.
Almost disbelieving.
Leah's hand stilled slightly.
Listening.
"…I didn't notice you at all," he murmured.
A pause.
"…You were already here… and I didn't know."
His thumb brushed lightly over her stomach.
Slow.
Gentle.
"…Seven weeks…"
Soft.
Wondering.
"…You're small."
A faint pause.
"…Very small."
Leah's lips curved slightly.
"…They're growing," she whispered.
"…Slowly."
"…Still," he murmured.
"…You're already here."
She could hear the shift.
Something softer.
Lighter.
His fingers tapped lightly against her stomach.
Barely there.
"…Can you hear me?"
A pause.
"…Probably not."
Another small pause.
"…Good."
Leah let out a quiet breath of laughter.
"…Iz…"
He ignored her.
Focused.
"…Then I can say whatever I want."
A faint trace of teasing in his voice.
"…You don't get to argue yet."
Leah shook her head slightly.
Smiling now.
His thumb brushed again.
Slow.
Thoughtful.
"…You chose a difficult time to arrive."
A pause.
"…And difficult parents."
Leah lightly nudged his shoulder.
"…Hey."
A faint exhale left him.
Almost amused.
"…But you chose us anyway."
Softer now.
More certain.
His hand pressed a little more firmly.
Grounding.
"…So you're staying."
A pause.
"…No leaving."
Leah's hand moved to his cheek.
Gentle.
"…They're not going anywhere."
"…Good," he murmured.
Then—
his tone shifted again.
Lighter.
"…You're already causing trouble."
Leah blinked.
"…What?"
"…You made her hide something from me for a week."
His fingers tapped lightly again.
"…That's not a good start."
Leah laughed softly.
"…It was a surprise."
"…Mm," he murmured.
"…You're learning from her already."
Leah smiled wider now.
"…Maybe that's a good thing."
He tilted his head slightly.
Still resting close.
"…We'll see."
A pause.
Then softer—
"…Don't make her worry too much."
His thumb brushed gently.
"…She already does that enough."
Leah's expression softened immediately.
Her fingers moved through his hair again.
"…I'm fine."
"…You will be," he corrected quietly.
A pause.
"…I'll make sure of it."
His hand stayed steady.
Warm.
Protective.
Then—
another shift.
Softer again.
"…You're going to listen to me, right?"
A pause.
"…Not just her."
Leah raised a brow slightly.
"…Excuse me?"
A faint hint of amusement touched his voice.
"…You'll listen to both of us."
He tapped lightly again.
"…But maybe a little more to me."
Leah shook her head.
"…That's not how that works."
"…It could be," he murmured.
A small pause.
Then—
he leaned in.
Pressed another soft kiss to her stomach.
Lingering.
Careful.
"…I'm your father," he whispered.
"…So I get some say."
Leah's breath caught slightly.
Her hand tightening gently in his hair.
"…You sound very sure."
"…I am."
Quiet.
Certain.
A pause.
Then softer—
"…But you can stay close to her too."
His hand smoothed lightly over her stomach.
Gentle reassurance.
"…She'll take care of you."
Leah smiled softly.
"…We both will."
He exhaled slowly.
Still resting there.
Still holding them.
"…I'll teach you things," he murmured.
A pause.
"…Not yet."
A faint shift.
"…But later."
His thumb brushed again.
Slow.
Thoughtful.
"…You'll walk beside me."
Another pause.
"…Not behind."
Leah's chest tightened slightly.
Emotion settling deep.
"…And you won't be alone."
His voice quieter now.
More serious.
"…Not like I was."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
But soft.
Leah's fingers moved again.
Grounding him.
Bringing him back.
Then—
his tone shifted once more.
Lighter.
Almost teasing again.
"…But first…"
A pause.
"…you're going to let her rest."
His fingers tapped lightly.
"…No more making her sick in the mornings."
Leah laughed softly.
"…I don't think they control that."
"…They should," he murmured.
"…It's inconvenient."
"…For you?"
"…For her."
A small pause.
"…And that means for me."
Leah smiled warmly.
Her hand covering his.
"…You're already protective."
"…I have to be."
Quiet.
Certain.
He stayed there a moment longer.
Just breathing.
Just feeling.
Then—
he lifted his head slowly.
Looking up at her.
Eyes still wet.
But brighter now.
Softer.
His hand didn't move.
Didn't leave her stomach.
"…Thank you," he whispered.
Leah brushed her thumb across his cheek.
"…For what?"
"…For them."
A pause.
"…For this."
Her expression softened.
"…We both made this," she whispered.
"…It's ours."
He nodded slightly.
"…Ours," he repeated.
Then—
he stood.
Slow.
Careful.
Still keeping one hand resting there.
Still holding that connection.
He pulled her into his arms.
Close.
Warm.
His face resting against her shoulder again.
"…I love you," he whispered.
"…I love you too," she said softly.
A pause.
Then—
his hand shifted slightly.
Still over her stomach.
"…And you…"
Quiet.
Gentle.
"…Try not to cause too much trouble."
Leah laughed softly.
"…They're not even born yet."
"…Exactly," he murmured.
"…So they have time to learn."
Her hand covered his again.
Holding it there.
"…We love you," she whispered.
Silence wrapped around them.
Warm.
Safe.
Unbreakable.
His hands moved to her waist.
Gentle.
"…You should rest," he murmured.
"…I'm fine."
"…Still."
A pause.
"…Let me."
Before she could respond—
he lifted her.
Effortless.
Careful.
Leah let out a soft breath.
"…Iz…"
"…You need to rest."
"…I was fine downstairs."
"…You're better upstairs."
Quiet.
Final.
She didn't argue.
Just rested against him.
Arms loosely around his shoulders.
"…You're very stubborn," she murmured.
"…I know."
He carried her through the hallway.
Back to their room.
The door opened softly.
He stepped inside.
Walked to the bed.
Then gently—
set her down.
Careful.
Slow.
Pulling the covers slightly over her.
Leah watched him.
Soft smile.
"…You're not letting me move today, are you?"
"…Not much."
A small pause.
"…Not unless I'm there."
She huffed a quiet laugh.
"…Overprotective."
"…Yes."
No hesitation.
He moved beside her.
Laying down slowly.
Close.
Very close.
Then—
he shifted.
Turning slightly.
Lowering himself.
His head resting gently against her stomach.
Careful.
As if she were fragile.
As if both of them were.
Leah stilled slightly.
Her fingers moved to his hair.
Soft.
Slow.
"…Comfortable?" she whispered.
"…Yes."
A pause.
His hand rested lightly over her stomach again.
"…I can stay here," he murmured.
"…All day."
She smiled.
"…You have work."
"…Not today."
Quiet.
Final.
A small silence followed.
Then—
his fingers brushed lightly.
"…You're still there," he whispered.
"…I know," she said softly.
"…Good."
A pause.
Then quieter—
"…Stay there."
Leah's chest tightened gently.
Her fingers moving through his hair again.
"…We will."
He exhaled slowly.
Eyes closing.
Finally at ease.
Finally calm.
His head resting over her stomach.
His hand holding her.
Holding them.
He didn't push the day away.
He didn't ignore it.
He didn't hide from it.
He stayed.
Right there.
With her.
With their child.
And everything…
felt right.
And for the first time—
this day didn't feel heavy.
It didn't feel like something to avoid.
It felt… full.
Alive.
And finally—
his.