Chapter 10: Safe in Your Arms
693 Words
The clock on the wall ticked softly, a steady rhythm in the warm quiet of the condo unit. BGC’s city lights shimmered gently through the tall windows, casting soft halos on the ceiling. Inside, the mood was serene. Mira lay curled on the couch, a knitted throw keeping her warm. Her phone—recently used to send a brief, neutral reply to Zander—rested on her belly. She'd archived the message right after. She didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not anymore.
Kent sat cross-legged on the floor, fixated on a marine documentary. Giant squid. Deep sea. Questions bubbling in his mind. But he was quiet, like Daddy told him to be when Mama needed to rest.
The door opened with a gentle click.
Eitan stepped in, tall and calm as ever, briefcase in one hand, a paper bag of groceries in the other. His eyes found Kent first, then Mira. His gaze softened as he took them in—his whole world, in one room.
“Hey, champ,” he whispered, placing the bag on the counter. “Did you take care of Mama today?”
Kent grinned. “She fell asleep while I was watching about jellyfish.”
Eitan chuckled softly, kissed the top of Kent’s head, and walked over to Mira. He knelt, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. She didn’t stir. Her lashes fluttered faintly. Her lips barely moved—murmuring something inaudible in sleep.
He gathered her in his arms with quiet care, lifting her gently. Her head instinctively nestled against his shoulder, like muscle memory. Her arms didn’t reach around him—but her heart did.
Once in the bedroom, he tucked her in, kissed her temple, and whispered, “Sleep easy, love. I’m here.”
Then he returned to the kitchen.
Eitan moved with steady purpose, preparing shakshuka from scratch—simmering tomatoes, cracking in the eggs, adding cumin, paprika, and chopped fresh parsley. Warm pita toasted on the side. A small salad of cucumbers, olives, lemon, and mint. All good for her. For the baby. For the life they were building.
But back in the bedroom, Mira stirred.
She was dreaming.
In the Dream
There was light. Blinding at first, then soft. Mira stood barefoot in a hallway lined with doors. All identical. Except one.
One had Eitan’s voice behind it.
She opened it—and there he was. Dressed in white, smiling with eyes that had seen everything, but still held the gentleness of the first time he touched her.
“Come home,” he whispered.
She stepped into his arms. The world around them faded—into stars, into silence. Just the thrum of his heartbeat. The scent of spices on his skin. His warmth, anchoring her.
“I missed this,” she whispered into his chest. “I missed you.”
“I never left,” he said, holding her tighter. “You just forgot where to find me.”
Her hands clung to his shirt. “I’m scared, Eitan. What if it all falls apart again?”
His lips brushed her hairline. “Then we’ll rebuild. But you’ll never fall alone.”
Back to Reality
A soft groan escaped her lips as she shifted under the covers.
“Mira,” Eitan’s voice said gently, this time not from a dream.
Her eyes fluttered open.
It was still dark, the golden glow of the hallway light spilling into the bedroom. Eitan sat beside her now, freshly showered, in a soft shirt and sweats. His hand was on her belly.
“You were dreaming,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”
She blinked up at him, dazed and still floating between dream and reality. “You… you were there.”
He smiled gently. “Where else would I be?”
Mira didn’t answer. She just reached for him. And without another word, he lay beside her and gathered her into his arms. His hand rubbed slow circles on her back.
Safe.
Warm.
Home.
And as sleep pulled her under again, she felt it—that quiet knowing that she wasn’t carrying this life alone.
- Writer
