The bedroom is quiet except for the faint rustle of sheets as Hannah shifts beside me. The lamp on the nightstand casts a soft, golden glow over her face, and I find myself watching her, the faint curve of her smile as she stares up at the ceiling.

She looks peaceful tonight—more relaxed than I’ve seen her in days. It’s a rare moment, and I can’t help but savor it.

It’s rare for me to feel this comfortable, this… at ease with someone. Yet, lying here with her feels natural in a way I can’t explain.

Hannah shifts again, her hands brushing over her belly. “He’s been quiet tonight,” she says softly, her tone tinged with curiosity.

“Still convinced it’s a boy?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a feeling,” she replies with a shrug. “I could be wrong. Either way, I can’t wait to meet them.”

The genuine excitement in her voice stirs something in me, a warmth I’m not entirely used to.

Suddenly, her hand freezes, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh!”

“What?” I ask, sitting up slightly, my gaze narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head quickly, her smile growing. “Nothing’s wrong. He just kicked.”

“Kicked?” I repeat, unsure why the word catches me so off guard.

“Here,” she says, grabbing my hand and guiding it to her belly. “Feel that.”

I hesitate, my palm resting against the curve of her stomach. For a moment, there’s nothing. Then, the faintest nudge beneath my hand.

I freeze, staring down at my hand as the sensation repeats, stronger this time.

Hannah laughs softly, her eyes shining with delight. “It’s like they’re saying hello.”

For once, I don’t have a snarky remark or a calculated response. I just sit there, my hand still on her belly, overwhelmed by something I can’t quite name.

“He’s active,” I murmur, my voice quieter than usual.

“Or she is,” Hannah counters, grinning.

I glance at her, shaking my head with a faint smile. “Always arguing.”

“Always right,” she retorts playfully.

Her laughter fills the room, warm and genuine, and I can’t help but laugh with her. The baby kicks again, and she sighs happily, resting her hand over mine.

“I want this,” she says softly, her voice almost a whisper.

I frown slightly, leaning closer. “What?”

“This,” she repeats, looking up at me with wide, earnest eyes. “A family. With you. Not just this baby, but… more. A real marriage. A real life. Maybe even more kids.”

Her words catch me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond.

“You want more?” I ask, my voice softer now.

She nods, her smile growing. “Yeah. Someday. Maybe three more.”

“Three?” I repeat, unable to keep the surprise from my tone.

She laughs, the sound light and teasing. “What, too many for you?”

I shake my head, smirking. “I think you’re already more than enough to handle.”