The morning air was calm when Gwen walked into the living room, one hand resting on her growing belly. Damien was already getting ready to leave. His leather jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, and his gloves sat halfway up his wrists.
“Damien,” she said softly, “I’ll be having my friend over today. Since you won’t let me out, at least let me have someone to talk to.”
He paused, sighed, and looked at her. “Fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But don’t stress yourself, okay?”
“I won’t,” she promised.
He stepped closer, his hand brushing over her stomach. “It’s for your own good, Gwen,” he murmured. His palm lingered on her belly before he pulled her into a hug, tight, warm, like he was letting go of some heavy tension sitting in his chest.
She hugged him back. For a
