h0llywoodsbleeding

intro

playlist

about mair

you’re the sunflower (main story)

interviews & online commentary

prequel one shots

*Mature*

Rush-hour traffic in Salt Lake was nothing like back home, but Mair still hated being stuck in it after a long day. The sun was low enough to glare through her sunglasses, and her shoulders ached from sitting at her desk all afternoon, fielding calls and emails that all seemed to carry a little more urgency than they should. She flexed her fingers against the steering wheel, rolling her neck until it popped, willing herself to leave work at work.

The Porsche smelled like success...or at least that's what Austin called it when they drove it off the lot. It had that fresh leather smell since Austin had it detailed so often the inside still felt untouched, even though she'd been driving it for months now. It was a Graduation gift, welcome-to-Utah gift...really just an I can spoil you just because I can gift. And every time she slid behind the wheel, it worked. She loved it. 

Her nails started tapping against the steering wheel at the red light, the faintest click in sync with the low hum of the engine. Her eyes watching the delicate gold rings stacked on her fingers.

The vibration in her YSL tote made her glance at the passenger seat. She reached over, rummaging past her wallet, a small makeup bag, and a half-empty pack of gum, until her hand ghosted over her phone. The bag had been a congratulations on the job gift. He handed it over in the kitchen with a glass of champagne and had that look he got when he was proud of her on his face.

Her screen lit up. 

Tom: Hey, can you hop on a quick call first thing tomorrow morning about the Greg situation?

Mair exhaled sharply through her nose, tossing the phone face-down onto the seat. Of course. The Greg situation. The same thorn in her side she'd been managing all week. Just a mess of payroll errors, PTO disputes, a union president breathing down her neck, and now another round of conflicting reports that made her feel like she was playing detective.

She loved HR. She loved the balance of rules and people, the structure with room for humanity, but lately, the pressure had been unrelenting. She was only a couple months into her first post-grad job, still finding her footing, and it felt like everyone expected her to wave a magic wand and fix everything. She knew she was doing good...great, actually. Her boss had confirmed it just today. But Mair was a perfectionist, the kind who set the bar high and then expected herself to clear it without breaking a sweat. It was the kind of mindset that led to moments like this one, sitting in her car, running through the list of everything still waiting for her tomorrow. The thing was, she had been crushing it. She was quick on her feet, smart, already bringing fresh ideas to the table that were actually getting used. But it didn't suppress the tension in her chest. 

The light turned green. She tried to distract herself as she rolled forward, jaw tight, and twisted the volume knob until the music filled the cabin. "Life Goes On" spilled from the speakers, warm and familiar, like a reminder to breathe. She tried to let the steady rhythm of a good BTS song settle her pulse, syncing her breaths to the chorus.

She drummed her fingers against the wheel, trying to let the words soak in. The only thing she wanted right now was to pull into the driveway, kick off her loafers, and find Austin.

Twenty minutes later, she finally did just that. The familiar crunch of gravel under the tires was oddly comforting, a steady sound that grounded her after the swirl of thoughts rattling around all day.

It had been months now since she'd made the move to Utah, leaving behind the long-distance stretch with Austin that had defined most of their relationship since she left for college. Sometimes she still couldn't believe how much simpler life felt now and how just being in the same place with him made the world click back into place.

As she cut the engine and reached for her seatbelt, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. The weight of work's chaos seemed to fade just a little bit. She knew exactly what she was walking into: Austin, still in his favorite pajama pants, sprawled on the couch or at his desk, headphones on, either making beats that sounded like magic or losing himself in a game.

Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag as she swung the door open. She stepped out, heels of her shoes clicking sharply on the stone path as she headed up to the front door.

She was on a mission. She needed him to help take the stress off. 

Mair pushed open the front door, and Nymeria shot forward like a furry missile, tail wagging so hard it thumped against the hardwood floor. The husky practically launched herself into Mair's legs, pressing her cold nose into Mair's palm.

"Hey, baby girl," Mair said softly, crouching to run her fingers through Nymeria's thick fur and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. The dog's warmth and excitement soothed her instantly, a sharp contrast to the tight coil of stress still buzzing under her skin.

"Hey, you," Austin's voice floated from the living room.

Mair slipped off her shoes  with a soft click and walked down the hall, the familiar smell of Austin's cologne mixed with the faint hint of pizza lingering in the air. She rounded the corner to find him exactly where she expected, lounging on the couch, a game controller in hand, and headphones next to him. His messy hair fell over his eyes, and his grin widened the moment their eyes met.

"Oh no," he said with concern, setting the controller aside. "The Greg situation's still driving you nuts?"

Mair dropped her bag on the side table, a sigh escaping her lips. "Yeah". 

Austin sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "Let it out."

"It's just bullshit! If someone had just done their job months ago, we wouldn't be stuck untangling this mess," she said, her tone practical and no-nonsense. 

As she talked through the chaos, Austin couldn't help but admire her even more. She managed the headaches of her job with such sharp and steady focus. But he could see the tension radiating off her like a visible force. Her jaw tight and shoulders stiff, like she was one big stress ball ready to snap. He wanted to do something to ease it, to take some of that weight off her.

Trying to lighten the mood, Austin grinned and said, "You know, you look really cute today."

She glanced down at her outfit. She had on soft, loose trousers and a matching blazer. It was a look that was all business but somehow still chill. She tugged lightly at her sleeve. "Thanks."

Then, with that trademark bluntness Austin adored, she added, "I'm so fucking stressed, I just need you to eat me out."

Austin's grin grew wider. "Well, that's one way to come home. You really know how to make an entrance."

Mair rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Austin, are you going to do it or keep running your mouth? Because honestly, the idea of you eating me out is the only thing that got me through today."

With a teasing smile he quips, "so you were thinking about me at work, huh?"

"All damn day," she shot back without hesitation.

He laughed softly. "I'm flattered...and kind of impressed you managed to focus at all."

Mair whined, "Austin."

"Come here, baby."

She shrugged off her blazer, the air brushing over the sleeveless shirt she wore underneath. Mair didn't hesitate. She sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around Austin's neck, pulling him in with a force that matched the tension inside her. Their lips met in an urgent and desperate kiss, like it was the only thing keeping her sane. The heat between them sparked instantly, breath hitching, and hands roaming with purpose and familiarity.

Austin's fingers slid beneath the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head in one smooth motion, and leaving her bare to the cool air in nothing but a simple black bra and loose trousers. He took a moment, his gaze drinking her in. Her sharp, determined eyes met his with that smirk she wore when she was simultaneously annoyed and amused. The weight of the day still clung to her, but now it was mingled with something raw.

Their mouths met again, this time slower, more searching. Austin's lips brushed against hers like a question, a promise, and a plea all at once. Then he shifted his weight, rising just enough to scoop her up effortlessly in his arms. The couch welcomed them with a soft thud as he lowered her down with a playful grin, the kind that said, you're mine now.

Mair's fingers tangled in his shirt, tugging him closer, while her breath gets shallow. She barely gave him time before her hands moved to the buttons on her trousers, undoing them with quick, efficient fingers. Austin's hands slid to help, sliding the fabric down her hips. The trousers pooled at her ankles, and then her panties followed. 

No room for teasing tonight, there was no time to waste.

Austin knew exactly what she needed. No drawn-out foreplay, no coy glances or hesitant touches. She wanted him now, in the most direct way possible, and what Mair wanted, Austin gave freely. He kissed his way down her stomach, each press of his lips sending sparks through her body, soft and steady, his breath hot against her skin. His hands curled around her legs, pulling her close as he slid off the coach and until she was sitting right in front of him, exposed and vulnerable in the way only she could be with him.

He adjusted her carefully, his fingers brushing the small of her back, anchoring her in place. The quiet room filled with the sound of their breaths, the subtle rustle of fabric, and the unmistakable rhythm of desire.

Austin lowered his head, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate patterns. He was like a maestro, skilled and precise, knowing exactly when to deepen the pressure and when to linger on a sensitive spot. He could play her like a fiddle, coaxing soft, involuntary moans from deep in her throat. His hands roamed freely, exploring the curve of her hips and the smoothness of her thighs. Mair's breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close as her eyes fluttered closed. The tight coil of stress that had built up over days slowly unraveled beneath his touch. The sharp edges softened until she felt like she was drifting, suspended in a moment that was hers and his.

"Not bad," Mair murmured, her voice low and teasing as she pulled back just enough to smirk. Her eyes glinted with that familiar sharpness. "But I know you can do better."

Austin chuckled against her skin, the vibration a delicious tease as his hands tightened their hold on her hips. "Challenge accepted."

He switched gears suddenly, like a man starved, relentless and single-minded. He started up again by tracing slow circles just above the curve of her hip. Then his lips pressed soft, wet kisses across the expanse of her stomach, gradually moving down again in a slow, maddening crawl.

Mair's breath hitched, a soft moan slipping free as his mouth explored her with precision. He was licking, sucking, and nipping just enough to draw out her pleasure. 

She shivered under him, the tension unraveling bit by bit, every deliberate flick of his tongue loosening the stress in her.

"Damn, this feels good," she breathed, her tone matter-of-fact but laced with awe. "I mean, you should get a raise for this kind of performance."

Austin's grin was audible in the way he hummed against her skin. "I aim to please, boss."

Her fingers trailed lightly along his shoulders as she teased, "Speaking of...there was one good thing that came from today.

He paused, tongue flicking up in question. "Yeah? What's that? Your boyfriend between your thighs?"

Her eyes locked on his. "I had my performance review today. And I'm killing it."

Austin's hands tightened on her hips as he lifted his head, a huge smile spreading across his face. "I'm proud of you, baby. But, is now really the time to bring that up?"

Mair smirked. "Well, I was just thinking about your performance. And that reminded me of mine."

He laughed softly, amused. "You evaluating me now, Mair?"

She giggled, voice dripping with dry humor. "Yeah. So you better work harder if you don't want to get a 'below satisfactory'."

Austin took the bait, his tongue flicking back to her most sensitive spot, circling and swirling with renewed intensity. His hands roamed freely, kneading the curves of her hips as he pushed her closer to the edge.

Soft moans escaped her lips, growing louder with each expert movement of his mouth. The sound only fueled him more, like music driving him to outdo himself, to push faster and deeper.

"Fuck, Austin," she gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, trying to pull his head up to her mouth.

But he wasn't giving in that easily. His mouth held its relentless pace, worshiping every inch with devotion, refusing to break contact. 

She tugged harder, breath catching. Finally, he obliged, lifting his head just enough for her to capture his lips in a hungry, fierce kiss.

"See?" she whispered against his mouth, smirking. "Performance reviews can be fun."

He grinned against her, teasing, "Only when it's you doing it."

"Careful," she warned with a sly smile. "I'm in a very evaluative mood tonight."

Austin laughed, nipping gently at her jaw. "Well then, maybe I should be aiming for 'exceeds expectations.'"

Their banter flowed easily, a perfect counterpoint to the heat building between them, the pulse of desire quickening.

Eventually, Mair pushed his head back down with a deliberate hand, voice low and commanding. "Okay, finish what you started."

He didn't need to be told twice. His mouth found her again, this time with an even fiercer hunger, lips and tongue working in perfect rhythm to bring her crashing over the edge.

Every flick and press of his tongue was a masterclass in pleasure—slow circles around the bundle of nerves, teasing flicks at the sensitive folds, and gentle suction that left her breathless and trembling. His hands gripped her firmly, steadying her as she trembled under him, skin flushed and eyes squeezed shut.

Mair's moans turned urgent, desperate, the control she held so tightly slipping away with every stroke of his tongue. She clung to him, whispering his name like a prayer, and the sound sent a shiver down his spine, pushing him to only a higher intensity.

When she finally came undone, it was with a shuddering cry and a voice hoarse from pleasure. 

Austin stayed with her, slow and steady until her breathing eased and the storm passed. He pulled her close, kissing the skin at her jaw, whispering, "You're incredible."

Mair cracked one eye open, dry humor flickering back. "I know."

Austin chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

After the storm of sensation, Mair slumped back onto the couch, the soft cushions swallowing her in a warm embrace. Her skin still tingled, flushed with the aftermath of pleasure, and her breath came in shallow, uneven rhythms as she tried to steady herself. The quiet of the room was a gentle contrast to the electric tension that had just passed between them.

Austin stayed close, his eyes dark with concern and tenderness as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her damp forehead. His fingers trailed lightly down her flushed cheek before drifting lower to rest on her thigh, where he pressed a soft kiss to her warm skin. The delicate pressure was grounding, a silent promise that he was here. He was present, steady, and wholly hers.

"I've got you," he murmured, voice low and soothing.

Mair gave a tired, half-smile, still catching her breath and not able to say much.  He chuckled softly and rose from his spot in front of her, the subtle creak of the floor beneath his feet breaking the quiet. A few moments later, he returned, cradling her water bottle in one hand and a pair of soft lounge pants in the other.

"Hydration and comfort," he said with mock ceremony, kneeling beside her. "Mandatory after a performance like that."

Mair laughed softly, her throat still a little hoarse. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

He smiled and helped her sit up just enough to slide the lounge pants over her legs. The fabric was soft and worn, perfect for evenings like this.

As she adjusted to the comfort of the pants, she took the water bottle with a grateful sigh and sipped slowly, the coolness soothing her throat. Her eyes never left him as she pulled him closer with a gentle tug on his pajama shirt.

"Stay," she said simply.

Austin obliged, settling down beside her. Slowly and patiently, he shifted their positions until she was comfortably lying against his chest, her head resting beneath his chin. Their legs tangled together naturally, an unspoken intimacy in the way their bodies fit perfectly.

His arms wrapped around her, one hand moving in slow, soothing circles across her back. The rhythm was steady and gentle and eased the frazzled edges she still carried from the day. Mair closed her eyes, letting herself sink fully into the comfort and safety of his embrace.

Austin stretched out on the couch, the kind of comfortable silence settling between him and Mair that only years of knowing each other could create. The lingering heat from earlier still lingered softly in the air, but now his usual grin was back, the one that meant he was about to turn on the charm, ready for some praise.

"So," he started, voice low and teasing, "how'd I do? Be honest. I want the full review."

Mair glanced at him with that perfectly deadpan expression he knew so well. No fluff, no sweet talk, just blunt truth. "You eat pussy like a meticulous consultant running a project."

Austin blinked, amused. "A consultant? Sounds...very businesslike."

"Exactly," she said, folding her arms like she was about to deliver a report. "Efficient. Focused. You know exactly when to push and when to pull back. No wasted effort, no confusion. You keep the whole operation smooth and on schedule."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Aw, my baby is so romantic," he said, tone dripping with mock sincerity.

Mair snorted, quick and dry, head lolling against his chest. "Imagine if you'd paid as much attention to the fine print in those sponsorship contracts early in your career as you do to my pussy. You wouldn't have been screwed over."

His mouth opened, but no words came out, just this half-laugh, half-shake of his head. She didn't even look at him as she reached for her water bottle, taking a long sip like she'd just signed off on something important. He found it ridiculously endearing.

"You're unbelievable," he said, settling in closer.

"Mm," she hummed, shifting her gaze back to him, that lazy post-orgasm smirk curling her lips. "You did...satisfactory, though."

"Good?" he repeated, feigning offense. "I've been going down on you for years, and you're giving me a satisfactory? You literally were just screaming my name."

She made a small, dismissive gesture with her hand, like she was cutting through an emotional appeal in a board meeting. "Yeah, but that's not part of the official evaluation, more of an informal."

He narrowed his eyes, amused. "Oh, so we're doing official evaluations now?"

"Of course. I have categories," she said, completely straight-faced. She shifted to sit up just enough so she could see him better. "First category...Stamina. You get high marks."

"As I should."

"But," she continued, ignoring him, "you could cut down on the extended warm-up. You know exactly how long it takes me. You don't have to do that whole dramatic 'build-up' thing every single time."

His brows shot up. "Dramatic build-up? That's called romance."

"That's called dragging it out so you can brag about how long you lasted," she countered, eyes glinting.

He laughed, running a hand over his face. "Okay, what's next, Miss HR?"

She didn't miss a beat. "Precision."

"Precision?"

"Yes. As in, your accuracy in hitting the exact spot."

"I think I'm batting a thousand there," he said, leaning forward like he was ready to argue his case.

"You're consistent," she admitted, in that clipped, matter-of-fact tone that somehow managed to sound like praise and not-praise at the same time. "It's very...targeted. Like a sniper."

He grinned. "A sniper, huh? I'll take it."

She lifted a finger. "But occasionally you overcorrect. Like you think you have to reinvent the wheel when really, you could just keep doing the same thing you were doing thirty seconds ago."

"Noted," he said, pretending to jot it down. "Next category?"

"Affect," she said.

He blinked. "Affect?"

"Yeah. How into it you seem. Your enthusiasm score is usually a 10, but I've noticed it spikes when I talk."

"Talk?"

She nodded seriously. "Like, if I give you directions, you get this whole new burst of energy. I have that affect on you, I guess. You have very employee-of-the-month behavior."

He smirked. "Baby, you realize you sound like you're reviewing a quarterly report for a Fortune 500 company, right?"

"Okay, and? Shall I continue?" she said, not waiting for him to answer.

"Uh—"

"Affection...above average," she began briskly, like she was reading from a clipboard. "Good mix of hand placement and kissing, not too much distraction from the main task."

He burst out laughing, but she kept going, unfazed.

"Punctuality...ten out of ten," she went on like he hadn't spoken. "You don't waste time. Your efficiency is high, you cover ground without rushing. And—" 

She tilted her head like she was deciding whether to add the last part. 

"—creative problem solving...like when I moved and you adjusted without losing rhythm. That's rare."

He grinned, propping himself up on his elbow. "Creative problem solving? Mair, that's just called being in the moment."

"It's called adapting to client needs," she deadpanned.

He laughed so hard he had to drop back against the pillow. "God, I love you."

"Final score: satisfactory-plus," she concluded, reaching for the water on the side table again.

"Satisfactory-plus?"

"That's generous," she said over the rim of her glass.

"Mair," he said suddenly, watching her like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or be offended, "do we always have to talk about us having sex like we're in a very serious business meeting?"

She tilted her head, catching the faint crease between his brows, and smirked. "Well, I take my work seriously," she replied, perfectly deadpan. "And you should be grateful I even offer performance feedback. Most people just leave anonymous reviews online."

He stared at her for a long beat, then cracked a grin. "I'm lucky I know you love me, because sometimes I question it when your sweet talk sounds like you're about two seconds from firing me."

"You'd know if I was firing you," she said, melting into him. "You'd get two weeks' notice and a severance package."

"Can't you just tell me exactly how good I am?" he pushed, like he was trying to charm it out of her.

"I told you, you did good," she said with a shrug, intentionally casual.

"Good?" He looked like she'd just downgraded his Yelp rating from five stars to three. "That's it? Just good?"

She has such a shit eating grin while glancing down at where his fingers brushed her arm in slow, coaxing circles.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, playful register she could never ignore. He moved in closer, brushing his lips against hers in a way that was more persuasion than kiss. "Just a little something. Sweet talk me. You know I like it."

Her lips twitched like she was going to keep resisting, but she finally caved, letting the edge in her voice soften. "Fine. You were amazing."

His smirk widened. "Go on."

"Your mouth," she said, meeting his eyes, "is unfair. Like, God clearly had favorites. The way you—". 

She cut herself off, shaking her head like it was dangerous to even put it into words. "You know exactly how to make me forget I was ever stressed. I can be wound up, cranky, completely done with the day...and you'll take one look at me, decide you're gonna fix it, and you do."

He hummed, looking far too satisfied. "That's more like it."

"And," she added, tone warming even more, "you're not just good at it, you're generous. You pay attention. You make it feel like I'm the only thing that matters when you're with me. As a lover and as my partner, you know exactly what to do. We've been together forever, and somehow, you still put in the effort like you've got something to prove."

He laughs and says, "I do and I'm your only employee".

"Yeah, well," she teased, brushing her hand along his jaw, "even the best employees get constructive criticism."

He groaned, letting his forehead fall lightly against hers. "You are so cute, but impossible."

The bedroom was quiet, still wrapped in the heavy silence of deep night when Mair stirred, a sharp cramp in her lower back pulling her from sleep. She winced, curling slightly onto her side, pressing a hand to her belly. It wasn't just discomfort, it was pain. The kind that pulsed and came back. Again.

She shifted under the blankets, a soft hiss escaping her lips as the sensation built again, stronger this time. And then—

Her heart stuttered.

She blinked hard into the dark room, trying to shake the haze of sleep from her mind. Her legs moved under the covers, and there was no mistaking it. She was soaked. "Oh my god," she whispered, breath catching. "Oh my god."

She reached out, blindly feeling across the edge of the mattress. "Austin," she whispered, strained, groggy.

"Austin—"

No answer. Her voice came out tighter. "Austin."

Still quiet.

Gathering every ounce of will, she swung her legs over the side of the bed right in front of the pile of pillows and blanket on the floor where Austin had insisted on sleeping, just in case she needed anything. He stirred the moment her feet landed near him, instinctively reaching up in his half-asleep state and wrapping a hand gently around her ankle.

"Hey, baby," he murmured, still groggy, eyes barely open. His thumb rubbed soothing circles against her skin. "You okay? You nauseous again?"

She didn't have time to answer gently.

"Austin—no," she said, voice trembling, urgency bleeding through. "My water broke."

His eyes snapped open. "What?"

"My water broke," she repeated, firmer now.

Austin shot up so fast he nearly tripped on his own blanket. Austin's hands were already in motion, tugging on a hoodie as he moved around the room with the speed and chaos of someone both trained for this moment and utterly unprepared.

"Okay, it's okay," he said, pointing at her like it would somehow anchor her. "Just—just stay there for a second, okay? Don't move too much. I've got it. We're good. We're okay."

Mair, still sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands gripping the sheets, watched him dart across the room and start throwing random things into a tote bag: her hairbrush, a pair of socks that weren't hers, a phone charger that might've been broken, and a bag of dried mango from her nightstand.

"Austin," she called, already starting to breathe through another contraction, "what are you even packing?"

He spun around, his hair sticking up in every direction, eyes wide. "I don't—essentials! I'm grabbing essentials!"

"Austin," she gritted out, "where's the hospital bag?"

He froze mid-step, still holding her Kindle like it might be vital to childbirth. "The hospital bag," he repeated, like he was just remembering it existed. "Right. The hospital bag. Yes. That would be helpful."

Mair groaned, half in pain, half in disbelief. "It's by the door. Where it's been for three weeks."

Austin dropped the Kindle and made a break for the hallway, yelling, "I knew that! I totally knew that!"

She could hear him muttering to himself as he grabbed the bag, something about being useless in a crisis and how she was definitely never going to let him live this down.

As Austin stumbled back into the room with the hospital bag clutched in one hand, still looking like he was on the verge of short-circuiting, Mair managed to breathe through the tail end of her contraction and say, gently but firmly, "Can you put my purse and phone and chargers in there, please?"

He stopped in his tracks, nodded like a soldier receiving orders, and said, "Yes. Purse. Phone. Chargers. Got it."

He looked around wildly for a second before spotting her purse slung over the back of the desk chair. "Found it!" he announced triumphantly, as if it had been a particularly tough scavenger hunt. Then he dove for her phone on the nightstand and scanned around for the chargers, uncoiling the tangled mess of cords with intense focus.

"Okay, I got the long one," he said, shoving it into the bag, "and the backup one. And I'm throwing in the portable battery too just in case."

"Thank you," Mair said, trying to steady her breathing. Her voice was soft, a little strained, but there was love in it, tenderness even in the chaos.

Austin glanced up from where he was zipping the hospital bag shut and did a double take, his eyes landing on her bare legs. She was only wearing one of his oversized t-shirts that was soft and clinging to her slightly damp skin. His brows furrowed in sudden realization.

"Wait—"do you wanna wear pants?" he asked, already halfway to standing.

Mair looked down, then gave him a look through a contraction that said she was two seconds from losing it. "Austin, yes, I want pants."

"Oh...right! Yes. Pants." He spun around in a panic, spotting the soft pink SKIMS boyfriend pants folded on the chair in the corner, exactly where she'd left them last night. He rushed over, grabbed them, and was back at her side in seconds.

She tried to lean forward to put them on herself, but he gently caught her wrist. "Hey, hey, don't, just let me," he said softly, crouching down in front of her. He guided her back onto the edge of the bed and knelt down, threading the loose lounge pants up one leg at a time. The fabric was buttery soft, easy on her skin, and he was being so careful and so slow and tender it made her throat tighten.

"Okay, one foot, now the other. Got it." He slid the waistband gently up over her hips, adjusting them under her bump. "All pants'd up."

Mair sighed, winded but grateful. "Thanks."

Austin kissed the inside of her knee, still crouched in front of her like she was something sacred.

Nymeria sat at the foot of the bed, her eyes lazily observing Austin's flustered movements. The dog's expression was a perfect mix of disbelief and judgment, as if she were silently assessing Austin's level of competence in a crisis. When he stumbled around, tripping over shoes and blankets, she blinked once and then rested her head back down, clearly unimpressed with the chaos unfolding in front of her.

Austin, now holding out his hand to Mair, tried to help her up. "Alright, let's get you up," he said, his voice strained but filled with determination.

Mair stayed seated, her hand firmly pressed against her belly as another contraction hit. She winced, then looked up at him. "Wait, can you go tell my parents we're leaving?"

Austin froze, blinking as if he couldn't quite process what she was asking. "Wait, what? Like, go into their room right now?"

Mair gave a small nod, as if it was completely normal. "Yeah, go tell them."

Austin's eyebrows furrowed. "Can't we just leave a note or, I don't know, send a text?"

She met his gaze with a seriousness that cut through the chaos. "Austin, I'm in labor. They need to know."

His mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to formulate an argument that didn't seem ridiculous. Finally, he sighed, realizing there was no way around it. "Okay, okay. I'll go tell them. Just stay here, alright? Don't have the baby without me." He gave her a nervous grin, his voice trembling with a mix of anxiety and humor.

Mair's eyes softened, but her tone was dry. "That's not how it works, Austin."

He carefully settled her back down on the bed, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I'll be right back," he said, his voice a little more reassuring as he headed for the door.

Nymeria, still lying lazily on the bed, gave an exaggerated sigh as if to say, I told you so, before closing her eyes and waiting for the next round of chaos.

Austin tiptoed through the dark hallway, trying not to knock anything over in his scramble. The door to her parents' room creaked faintly as he slipped inside, the dim glow of the nightlight casting long shadows across the floor. He shuffled toward the bed, whispering her mom's name before lightly tapping her on the shoulder.

She jolted awake with a gasp, clutching the blanket to her chest.

"Austin?"

"Sorry—sorry," he whispered quickly, hands up. "Mair's in labor. We're going to the hospital."

That was all it took.

Her mom shot out of bed like she'd trained for this her entire life, robe already halfway on before her feet even hit the floor. She brushed past him, fully alert now, and Austin barely managed to turn and trail after her.

By the time they got into the hallway, Mair was already halfway to the stairs, one hand braced on the wall, the other pressing against her belly.

"Mair, are you okay?" her mom called gently, rushing to catch up.

Mair didn't even look back. "Can we please go now?"

Austin didn't need to be told twice. He jogged back into her room, gave Nymeria a rushed kiss on the head, "Guard the house, alright?", and grabbed the hospital bag. The dog blinked slowly at him and resumed her nap as if none of this was her problem.

Bag in hand, he thundered downstairs, heart racing and nerves buzzing.

Her mom was already in the kitchen, moving fast but calm, grabbing a cold water bottle. She paused just long enough to walk back over and press it into her daughter's hand, eyes brimming with love and nerves.

"You'll text her when it's time to come, right?" Mair said to Austin, wincing through another contraction. Her voice was strained but steady.

Austin nodded quickly, "Yeah, I'll keep you posted."

Her mom leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face like she had a thousand times before. "You're so strong, Mairead. You've got this, okay? I love you."

Mair swallowed hard and gave a shaky nod.

Austin was already back at her side, reaching out his hand for her to take. His fingers curled around hers like a promise. "Ready?" he asked softly.

Austin kept a steady grip on her hand, his other arm hovering just behind her back as they moved slowly, step by step down the stairs. "You good?" he asked, glancing over every time she winced.

"Peachy," she muttered through gritted teeth.

Once they made it out the front door, the reality of the G-Wagon hit him like a freight train. It sat high, way too high and Mair was in no shape to hoist herself up into it. She just stood there staring at the passenger door, breathing heavy, looking like she might kill him.

"Okay, alright, I got you," Austin said quickly, sliding an arm around her waist and the other under her knees. "Hang on."

She groaned a little as he lifted her off the ground and carefully placed her into the seat.

"I told you it was stupid to get this thing," she huffed once she was settled, adjusting in discomfort.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're right like always," he said with a grin, shutting the door gently and jogging around to the driver's side. He climbed in, started the engine, hands gripping the wheel, heart racing.

But just as he was about to pull out of the driveway, her voice cut through the quiet hum of the engine.

"Wait! Do you have the bunny you bought her?"

Austin froze, turning to look at her. "Oh... um no. It's still in the nursery. It's okay though, baby. She doesn't need it tonight."

"No," Mair's voice cracked. "You bought that for her and I want her to have it at the hospital. And the blanket. The one your dad and stepmom gave us."

Austin looked at her, at the emotion written all over her face. She wasn't just being sentimental, she needed this.

"Okay, baby. I'll go grab it. Just hang tight," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before jumping out of the car and sprinting back into the house.

Inside, her mom blinked at him, startled as he blew past her in the hallway.

"What's going on?"

"I forgot something!" he called back breathlessly as he took the stairs two at a time.

He burst into the nursery, moonlight casting soft shadows across the room that was about to become everything. His eyes landed on the little plush bunny sitting sweetly in the crib, the one he'd picked out months ago. He grabbed it, then crossed the room to where the soft, cream-colored blanket was folded neatly over the edge of the rocker.

Just before leaving, he paused. Reaching into the top drawer of the dresser, he pulled out the small velvet box with the diamond bracelet he'd bought for Mair, his gift to her for everything she'd endured, for the strength she didn't even realize she carried.

Nymeria was in the hallway, sitting calmly, watching him with a blank stare. Her tail flicked once.

Austin gave her a look as he rushed by. "Don't give me that. I'm doing my best."

She sighed, low and dramatic, as if to say, this man is about to be a father?

With arms full, he raced back down the stairs, heart pounding. His girls were waiting for him. He rushed back out to the car, heart thudding with urgency and emotion, the plush bunny in one hand and the soft cream blanket folded neatly under his arm. His other hand stayed buried in his hoodie pocket, fingers curled protectively around the velvet box he hadn't told her about yet.

He opened the passenger side door and gently handed the bunny and blanket over. Mair's hands wrapped around them immediately, like they were the only things keeping her sane. She held the bunny to her chest, stroking its ears with her thumb. Her lower lip wobbled, eyes glassy with tears she didn't even try to hide.

"Thanks," she whispered. "I just wanted her to have these."

Austin reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "Of course, baby. Anything you want."

He shut her door gently and jogged around to the driver's side, sliding in and starting the car. As they pulled away from the curb, he kept glancing over at her, watching how she breathed through each light contraction, bunny still pressed to her chest.

"You doing okay?" he asked softly, his hand resting on the center console, palm up just in case she wanted to grab it.

She nodded. "It's not too bad right now. Just tight. It keeps coming in waves."

He looked at her like she hung the moon. "You're so strong, Mairead."

She let out a slow breath, trying to smile. "Trying."

Austin wanted to help, to distract her from the nerves winding through her shoulders. "I keep thinking about holding her," he said, glancing at her quickly before turning back to the road. "Seeing her little face for the first time. And you as a mom. That's gonna be the greatest thing I ever witness."

Mair blinked fast, her chest hitching. Her voice was small but steady. "I can't wait either."

Trying to lighten the mood, he added with a soft laugh, "I'm sorry in advance if she has my hair and you have to brush it. You're gonna be stuck detangling curls for years."

She let out a breathy laugh, eyes still shining. "My mom said the same thing. But honestly? I'd consider myself lucky if she looks like you."

He saw a glimpse of his girl in that moment, the way she could say the sweetest things so passively, so offhanded, like it wasn't a big deal. And it just wrecked him. She had no idea what she did to him when she got like that—soft, sincere, the version of her that crept out in the quiet, in the in-between moments when she forgot to guard herself.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's gonna be amazing," he said, his voice full of certainty.

She smiled softly, looking out the window as the hospital's lights came into view. As he pulled into the circular drive, there was a hush between them. The kind that only comes before something life changing.

This was the beginning. Of their lives as parents. Of a new chapter.

Mair couldn't stop folding things. Refolding, really. Her closet had already been color-coordinated and split by season, but that didn't stop her from going through each hanger like it might do something to steady her racing thoughts.

Any day now. Her daughter could come any day now. She wanted to be prepared and make sure her bedroom was clean before she had to be worried about changing diapers.

She pulled another sweater off the bed to hang up and reached into the corner of her closet. Her fingers brushed against a cardboard edge, and she froze.

It was the box.

The one she kept hidden under a row of shoes she hadn't worn in years. She'd almost forgotten about it.

Mair slowly crouched, careful with the weight of her belly, and pulled it out. The lid lifted with the familiar creak of worn cardboard. Inside, everything was just how she remembered—folded letters tied with string, notes passed between classes, pages torn from Austin's notebooks filled with his messy, uneven handwriting. Her chest ached at the sight.

They were so young then. And so sure of forever.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, hands shaking just slightly as she untied the string and picked one from the middle of the pile. The paper was soft with age, a little crinkled around the edges. She recognized the way he used to start all of them:

"To the only girl I've ever wanted—"

A laugh broke through her tears before she could stop it. God, he was so dramatic. So sincere. And so hers.

She hadn't read them in a while. Not since before she left with him for Utah. Not since before the world tilted sideways and back again.

They'd been in such a good rhythm lately, ever since the pajama fight of all things. That had shaken them both, but it had also realigned them. Like they'd both needed that moment of breaking to remember they were on the same team. Since then, it felt like they were breathing in sync.

But sitting here now, holding one of those letters from when it all began, the weight of it hit her differently. She wasn't just the girl in his notes anymore. She was about to be the mother of his child. The same boy who used to doodle hearts in the margins of math homework was the man who now rubbed her back through her worst nights and made her laugh when the fear felt too big to hold.

She placed a gentle hand on her belly and let out a shaky breath. "You want to hear how sweet and charming your daddy was in highschool, baby?"

"Okay, sweetheart," she murmured, brushing her fingers over the stretch of her shirt, "this one's from when we were seventeen. Your dad had a real problem with paying attention in math class."

She cleared her throat and began to read aloud:

Mair,

I'm writing this in the middle of Pre-Calc, which is bold, I know, but honestly I haven't listened for like three weeks and I'm just trying to survive until lunch when I can see you.

Anyway, I was halfway through telling you how good you looked in my red hoodie this morning. Seriously, it's unfair. Then Mr. K caught me writing this. He asked if it was 'another one of those love notes' and made me read it out loud.

She paused to laugh softly, wiping under her eyes. Mair looks down at her belly, "your grandpa was so mad when he got that email. Your dad thought it was the funniest thing in the world."

She kept reading, voice gentle now, quiet and full of fondness.

So I stood there, red as hell, reading a letter about how I think your laugh is the only sound that makes me feel like I'm not drowning in this whole place.

That's real, by the way. You make everything feel lighter. I don't care if I flunk Pre-Calc, I'd read a thousand of these out loud if it means you know how much I love you.

She sniffled, closing her eyes for a moment. "He's always been like that, you know?" she whispered. "Loud with his love. Unashamed. I didn't always know how to match it."

She sifted through the pile, careful not to wrinkle the edges of the old papers, and pulled out another folded note. This one decorated with stars drawn in pen and bold, crooked handwriting across the back.

She smiled instantly. "Oh," she breathed, brushing her thumb over the ink. "This is a special one, baby girl."

She turned it toward her belly, where her daughter shifted lazily beneath her palm.

"See?" she whispered. "It says, 'To my girlfriend!!!' Three exclamation points and everything. Your dad was never subtle."

She unfolded the letter and settled deeper into the pillows behind her, reading aloud as a smile tugged at her lips.

Mair,

I came home tonight with the biggest, goofiest grin on my face. My mom asked what was wrong with me, and I told her nothings wrong. I asked Mair to be my girlfriend tonight and she said yes.

Mair's voice wavered just slightly, her eyes misting with the memory of that night, the nervous energy in his hands, how he kept fidgeting with his sleeves, how she'd said yes before he even finished asking.

She kept reading:

I still don't totally know how I pulled it off. You're smarter than me, you're tougher than me, and you've always looked at the world like it's something you want to fight for.

You've been my favorite person since the first day I sat next to you in history. You made me laugh when I didn't feel like laughing. You called me out when I was being an idiot. You're like this lightning bolt.

I think maybe I was made to stand next to someone like that. You.

Mair's voice cracked, and she paused, her hand flying to her chest like she could physically hold her heart in place.

"Oh," she exhaled, a laugh catching on a sob. "He was such a little shit, but he loved me so much."

Mair gently unfolded the next letter she found, her fingers lingering on the familiar paper. She paused for a moment, taking a slow breath. This one, she knew, was different.

"This one is just for me," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. It was a letter he had written her after they'd given each other their virginity, in a quiet house, under a haze of newness and vulnerability.

She stared at the letter for a while before she began to read to herself, her eyes tracing the words on the page, recalling the day he had left it for her.

Mair,

I don't know how to say this without sounding cheesy, but I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life than I am of you. I thought I could tell you everything with just a few words, but I don't even know where to start. This is the kind of thing I know I'll remember forever, and I want you to know it meant everything to me. More than anything else we've done, this felt real.

I wanted to say more, but I don't really know how to say it without messing it up, so I'll just say this: I love you. And I'm always going to love you. I can't even begin to tell you how much you mean to me.

Mair closed her eyes for a moment as she felt the tears well up. She remembered the feeling of finding this letter in her bag the next day. It was an unexpected, perfect reminder of how real everything had felt, even then, when they were seventeen, fumbling through the awkwardness of being together. She remembered how, even with her heart racing and her mind spinning from his touch and everything that had just happened, she'd felt so safe with him.

Safe with the boy she would eventually make her future with.

She wiped a tear from her cheek, a soft smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She didn't need to read it out loud. Some things, some feelings, she realized, were meant to be felt quietly, cherished in the way they shaped her heart.

Mair flipped through the letters again, each one a piece of her past, her memories wrapped in ink and paper. She ran her thumb over the edges of the pages, each one carrying a weight of emotion, until one caught her eye. She hadn't seen this one in a while, and the familiar handwriting made her heart skip a beat.

This one was from before she left for college. The night before, in fact.

She pulled it from the stack, her hands trembling slightly as she unfolded it. Her breath caught as she started to read, recognizing the tenderness in the words, the rawness of his feelings for her, even back then.

Mair,

Tomorrow you leave for college. I don't even know how to start this, honestly. There's too much I want to say and not enough words to make it mean everything I feel. I've never been more proud of you. You're going off to follow your dreams, and I know you'll do amazing things. You've always had this fire in you, this spark that I could never keep up with, and I'm in awe of you.

I've spent every day with you since we were kids, and I can't imagine a life without you. But tomorrow, you're going to be far away, and I just want you to know that no matter how far you go, I'm here. I'm always going to be here for you. I don't know what the future holds, but I know one thing for sure: I'll always love you. I've always loved you. And I'll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes.

Forever yours,

Austin

Mair's chest tightened as she read the last words, the ones that had been written before she'd left for Wisconsin. She remembered how she had packed everything, her mind full of excitement, but also a deep ache that she tried to ignore. That letter had been the only thing that kept her sane, the only thing she clung to during those long months apart.

His love had always been there, even when distance separated them, even when life pulled them in different directions.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. The love, the certainty, the unwavering promise that had been there even when she'd been uncertain about everything else.

She felt the familiar ache in her chest, the longing for him. For them. For everything they had been through, and everything they were about to become.

She could feel her baby move gently beneath her hand, as if the little one inside her was already picking up on the love that surrounded them. The love that had been constant, even when they were apart. Even now, as they prepared to welcome a new chapter.

Austin walked through the bedroom door just as she finished reading the letter. Mair sat cross-legged on their bed, surrounded by old folded paper, her fingers gently smoothing the edges of the letters that had been read and reread a hundred times. He stopped in the doorway for a moment, watching her and how her shoulders curled inward, how she clutched one of the envelopes like it was a lifeline.

He crossed the room slowly and sat down next to her, close enough that their knees touched. "Hey," he said softly, nudging her knee with his. "What're you up to?"

She looked over at him, eyes glassy with tears, and let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob. "I found my box of letters from you."

He blinked in surprise, then smiled. "You kept them?"

"Of course I did." She gave a wet laugh, shaking her head a little. "You don't get rid of something like this."

Austin leaned back slightly, his hand moving to rest on her thigh, warm and steady. "God. I remember writing some of those at two in the morning. Or in the middle of class, just thinking about you."

"I read the one from math class," she said, grinning through her tears. "The one where your teacher made you read it out loud."

He laughed, tilting his head back. "That was the most humiliating day of my high school life. Worth it, though."

Mair looked down again at the pile in her lap. She took a breath, then said softly, "We were so young and so in love."

Austin looked at her then, really looked, and something in his expression shifted—like her words had tugged on a thread deep in his chest. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We were."

She lifted her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, and he could see every emotion swirling in them. "Do you think younger us would even be able to comprehend this? Us now? About to have a baby?"

He was quiet for a beat. Then he gave a slow, wistful smile. "No. Seventeen-year-old me would've freaked the hell out. Probably thrown up." He laughed gently, but his tone softened as he continued. "But I also think he'd believe it. Because even then, I couldn't imagine a future that didn't have you in it."

Mair's bottom lip wobbled, her face crumpling just a little. "Austin—"

He reached out, his hand sliding along her jaw as his thumb brushed away a tear. "Hey. It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

She leaned into his palm. "We've been through so much. And I still look at you and feel like that same girl who used to wait by my locker just to see if you'd walk by. Like I've been loving you my whole life."

His throat tightened. "You have been. And I've been loving you just as long."

Mair let out a shaky breath, looking down at her belly, resting her hand over the curve of it. "She's going to be here so soon. And I just—I want her to know how much we fought to be together back then. How much love there's always been."

Austin nodded, his voice low and thick. "She will. We'll tell her. About how it all started. About every letter and every moment we swore we were soulmates, even when we were too young to know what that meant."

Mair leaned her head against his shoulder, tears slipping down silently now. "She's gonna feel so loved."

"She already is," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her in.

Mair blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes, swiping at them gently with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Her voice was small when she asked, "Is your mom here too?"

Austin nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "She's downstairs. Last I checked, she and your mom were deep in conversation about newborn pictures. I think they're planning a whole photoshoot."

Mair let out a breathy laugh, the kind that still carried a little emotion behind it. "Of course they are."

"Apparently your mom has ideas," Austin added, raising his brows. "Like, themes and everything. My mom said something about flower crowns and a tiny bear hat."

She laughed again, resting her forehead on his shoulder, the warmth of his body grounding her. "That's terrifying."

"You better get ready," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "They're going to have our kid booked like a celebrity before she's even home."

Mair sat there for another beat, soaking in his warmth, the lingering emotion still resting quietly behind her eyes. Then she straightened up a little and looked at him with a soft, tired smile.

"Let's go down there," she said, brushing the edge of the box closed and setting it carefully on the bed.

"Before they start planning her graduation party too."

Austin laughed and helped her up and placed a protective hand on her back as they made their way downstairs.

As soon as they reached the bottom step, his mom looked up from the kitchen and her face lit up. "There's my girl!" she said, crossing the room to wrap Mair in a gentle but heartfelt hug. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"I'm okay," Mair said, leaning into the hug. "Emotional, apparently."

"You're allowed to be," she said with a knowing smile, rubbing her back. "You're making a whole person. That earns you some leeway."

Her own mom appeared then, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "We were just talking about you two," she said, nodding toward the kitchen. "Come sit. Dinner's ready."

The dining room was cozy, filled with the kind of chatter and warmth that only two families who'd known each other for years could create. The table was set simply but lovingly with ceramic dishes that had tiny chips from years of use, mismatched cloth napkins folded with care, and a bouquet of tulips Austin's mom had brought, blooming bright in a glass jar at the center. The soft clink of silverware and the smell of browned butter and garlic made the whole room feel wrapped in comfort.

Mair's mom placed the shepherd's pie on the table with a proud little smile, its golden potato crust bubbling just slightly at the edges. Steam rose in delicate curls, and the rich scent of herbs and ground beef filled the air. "My mom's recipe," she said as she began dishing it out, "but I added more garlic this time, just how you like it, Austin."

Austin grinned, leaning forward slightly. "You know me too well, Mrs. Callahan."

Austin's mom had brought dessert, her signature lemon bars that had become more than just a craving for Mair these past few months. They'd been a full-on pregnancy need. Sweet and tangy with a buttery shortbread crust, they sat chilled and perfect in a glass dish, dusted with powdered sugar that made them look like little squares of gold.

"I made a double batch this time," his mom said with a teasing wink, sliding the chilled tray onto the counter. "Just in case."

"I love you so much," Mair said earnestly, already thinking about how many she could sneak before bed.

She wasn't joking, she'd cried last month when the last batch ran out, ugly tears in the kitchen with her hands still sticky from the lemon filling. Austin had tried to comfort her, bless him, but only more lemon bars could fix it.

Dinner was loud in the best way with forks clinking, overlapping stories, and everyone speaking just a little over each other. The room was full of laughter and the kind of joy that comes when you know something beautiful is just around the corner. Mair leaned into Austin's shoulder, a small, tired laugh escaping her as she recounted one of the more chaotic moments from earlier in the week.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you all—Austin spent like an hour trying to get the car seat in."

Austin groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Don't expose me like this."

"No, it was sweet," Mair said, nudging him with her elbow. "But I was worried he was going to break it. He had his knees in the seat, grunting like he was wrestling a bear. I was standing in the doorway eating a popsicle just watching him sweat and swear under his breath."

"I was securing it," Austin said defensively, cheeks pink.

"Yeah," Mair grinned, "and then he shouts, 'It's not going anywhere now!' like he'd just defused a bomb."

Everyone cracked up. Even her dad, who normally just smirked at stories like this, let out a full laugh and shook his head fondly.

"And," Mair added, a little more quietly now, her hand brushing against her belly again, "he already put the stroller in the trunk."

Austin smiled at her gently. "You never know. She could come tomorrow."

That made the table go quiet for a beat. It wasn't heavy, just tender. Mair could feel her mom watching her, and then she said softly, "Any day now."

She was the center of every thought, every plan, every tender laugh between their families.

"I just keep trying to picture what she's going to look like," Austin's mom said with a soft smile, sipping her tea. "I hope she gets Mair's eyes."

"Oh, she better," Mair's mom said, nudging her husband with her elbow. "We worked too hard for her not to inherit them."

"Maybe she'll have Austin's curls," Austin's mom countered, looking fondly at her son, whose hair had grown out just enough to start doing that messy little wave at the back. "He had the sweetest curls as a baby. Looked like a cherub."

Austin groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Can we not bring out baby pictures right now?"

But Mair was smiling. Her hand moved absently to her belly again, rubbing little circles as their parents went back and forth with guesses. Her mom was lobbying for freckles, his mom for dimples.

"She'll be beautiful no matter what," Mair's dad said, his voice warm and calm as always. Then he glanced toward Mair, eyes twinkling. "But I have to admit, I'm excited to finally know the name you picked."

Mair smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "We're still keeping it a surprise. But, I think you'll like it."

Austin leaned closer, murmuring with a smirk, "Told you your dad wouldn't let it go."

"I'm not letting anything go," her dad said, raising his brows. "I'm becoming a grandfather. I've earned some insider secrets."

The morning had started off soft. The sun was shining into Mair's room. Austin had made her breakfast—toast with strawberry jam and those eggs she liked scrambled until they were just shy of rubbery.

He even rubbed her lower back while she sipped on her decaf coffee. It was one of those slow, sweet starts that they didn't get to have often. He wanted to make sure she was relaxed and comfortable before she would be out running errands. But it didn't last.

She wandered into the nursery after breakfast, humming absently, her hand grazing over the white painted dresser. She opened one drawer, then another. Then another. Her brows furrowed.

"Austin?" she called.

"Yeah?" he called from the hallway.

"Where's the pajama pile? The ones I set aside?"

He appeared in the doorway instantly. "Oh, I put them away yesterday. Bottom drawer with the onesies, I think."

She stopped moving. "Why would you do that?"

He blinked. "I thought I was helping. I didn't want to leave everything sitting out."

"But I had that pile set aside. That was the bedtime drawer. I was trying to keep everything in order," she said, voice rising ever so slightly. "Now I don't know what's where and I have to redo it."

Austin stepped into the room slowly, voice soft. "Okay, I get that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your system."

She let out a shaky breath and dropped her hands to her sides, her lip wobbling. "It's not just a system. I need things to be in order. Everything feels so out of control in my life, and the nursery was the one thing I felt like I had a handle on."

"I know," he said quickly. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't think—"

"Exactly," she snapped, turning away. "You didn't think. You didn't think last night. You didn't think while you were on tour. And you didn't think when you hooked up with those girls"

The room went quiet.

She rubbed her eyes, trying not to cry. "Ugh, I can't talk about this right now."

"Mair...I'm sor—"

"I have errands. I'm going out with my mom. I have to go."

Austin watched her move past him, grabbing her bag from the chair by the door. Her jaw was set tight, eyes glassy. He knew she wasn't mad at him about the pajamas. Not really. But she was overwhelmed and hurting over his mistakes. And she was barely holding it together with all the pressure and fear building inside her. And she needed to have order to deal with it.

He didn't follow her. He just stood in the middle of the nursery, looking at the drawer he'd unknowingly misplaced some tiny pajamas in, wishing more than anything that he could fix what was weighing on her.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he listened to the front door click shut.

They didn't like leaving things like this. That was never their way.

But today—he knew she needed space. And he hated every second of it.

Austin stood in the quiet nursery long after Mair left, the walls suddenly too still, too soft in their pastel calm. The little folded socks in the corner drawer stared back at him like they were mocking him. He dragged a hand down his face and sat on the edge of the glider, elbows on his knees.

He should've known better.

He knew how much this room meant to her. How carefully she'd organized it, how she'd taken hours to decide what drawer would hold what. It wasn't just about clothes. It was about control. About finding calm in something that had felt like a storm ever since she left Utah and saw two pink lines on a stick and her world cracked open.

She needed things a certain way, and he loved that about her. That attention to detail, that quiet precision, it had always been part of her. It was how she got through college, how she always remembered everyone's birthdays, how she once reorganized his chaotic closet and left him feeling like he could finally breathe again.

He'd always admired that. Needed it, even.

And now he was kicking himself for messing with it.

It hadn't even been a big decision. He was trying to be helpful, tidy up while she was napping. But he should've paused. Should've asked. Should've remembered that this wasn't just any drawer in any dresser, this was her one patch of solid ground in a world where nothing had gone the way she'd expected because of his doing.

He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, exhaling through his nose. Now it was going to sit heavy in his chest all day. That look on her face. The crack in her voice when she said she couldn't talk about it. And the way she didn't meet his eyes when she left.

He didn't blame her. Of course not.

He just blamed himself.

And now he was counting the hours until she came back, hoping to God she'd let him make it right.

Meanwhile, the car was quiet except for the steady hum of the engine and the faint city noise outside the windows. Mair sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her arms folded tightly across her chest, jaw clenched as she blinked back tears. She kept staring out the window, but her mom didn't miss the way her breathing had gone shallow.

"Honey," her mom said softly, glancing over. "What happened?"

Mair's chin quivered, and she let out a shaky breath.

"Austin moved the pajamas."

Her mom blinked. "The—pajamas?"

"The ones I had in the nursery," Mair said quickly, her voice rising in pitch as her eyes filled. "The ones I washed and folded and had sitting out because I wanted them in a certain drawer. And I couldn't find them, and he moved them—he moved everything. And I just—"

She couldn't finish. Her voice cracked and she brought her hand to her mouth as the tears came hard and fast.

"I yelled at him," she sobbed. "I got so upset, and I told him I couldn't talk about it and I just—left. I left."

Her mom's face softened immediately.

"Sweetheart—"

"I know he was trying to help," Mair said, her voice spiraling into a mix of guilt and panic. "I know he didn't mean anything by it, but I can't—I can't breathe when things are out of place. The nursery is the only thing that feels safe and controlled right now. And when it's not how I left it, it feels like the whole world is crumbling again."

Her shoulders shook as she cried harder, fully unraveling now, hands trembling in her lap.

"Everything's already so hard. My body hurts all the time, I can't sleep, I cry for no reason, and I feel like I'm falling apart. And I'm supposed to be holding it all together for this baby and I can't even keep her pajamas in the right fucking drawer."

Her mom reached over, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly.

"You're not falling apart," she said, tears brimming in her own eyes now. "You're exhausted. You're overwhelmed. And you're doing everything right. It's okay to fall apart sometimes, Mair. You're not a robot. You're pregnant. You're carrying all this physical and emotional weight every single day. No one expects you to be perfect."

Mair shook her head violently. "But I need to be. If I'm not perfect now, how the hell am I supposed to be a good mom? What if I can't handle this? What if I snap at the baby one day the way I just snapped at him?"

"Stop," her mom said, firm but gentle. "You are already a good mom. You care. You're protecting her even now. And Austin—he'll understand. He knows you didn't mean to snap. He's not going anywhere."

Mair sobbed, letting her head fall into her hands. "I miss how we used to be. I miss when things felt easy. I hate feeling like I'm hard to love right now."

Her mom stayed quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle as Mair wiped her eyes with the cuff of her hoodie. Her hands were still trembling slightly, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

"Mairead," her mom said gently. "Austin loves you. He does. He always has. And I know you're upset about not just the pajamas...but about everything and I get it, baby, I do, but he wasn't trying to derail the nursery. He was just trying to help."

Mair sniffled hard and looked down at her lap, twisting the end of her sleeve in her hand like a child. "I know," she whispered. "I know he was."

Her mom reached over again, squeezing her hand. "You two will talk it out. It's just one of those days, and it's okay to have them."

Mair let out a shaky laugh, though it caught in her throat. "We don't do this," she said, her voice tight. "Me and him—we don't fight like this. We don't walk away from each other. We talk. We always talk."

Her eyes welled up again, and she pressed her palm to her chest like she was trying to hold herself together.

"I haven't done that since—since I walked out in Utah," she said, barely above a whisper.

Her mom's face softened, heart aching for her daughter. She rubbed her arm gently, steadying her with the kind of tenderness only a mother could give.

"It's not the same thing, you did the right thing in that moment," she said. "You're under so much pressure right now. It's not about pajamas, sweetheart. It's about everything combined. And he knows that. I promise you, he's not sitting at home angry. He's probably sitting there wishing he hadn't touched anything. Wishing he could make it right. Make everything right."

Mair looked away, biting her lip. Her throat burned. "I hate that I left like that. I don't want to further drive us away if we're trying to move past everything that happened."

Her mom sighed, brushing a piece of hair from Mair's damp cheek. "You're allowed to need a moment. And I know you'll talk to him. He'll understand. You just needed to breathe."

They pulled into the parking lot of the store, and Mair didn't make a move to get out yet. She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, tears still clinging to her lashes.

Her mom looked over at her again and squeezed her hand one more time.

"You're doing your best," she said. "And that's more than enough."

Mair nodded slowly, her voice small.

It was already dark by the time Mair and her mom pulled back into the driveway. The porch light was on, casting a soft golden glow across the front steps. But the space in front of the house where Austin usually parked was empty.

Her chest tightened instantly.

She sat still for a moment in the passenger seat, staring at the vacant spot like if she blinked hard enough, his car might just appear there.

He wasn't there waiting for her.

She swallowed thickly, climbing out of the car and trying not to show how it rattled her. Maybe he was just running errands. Maybe he was picking up dinner. But the flutter in her chest wasn't just nerves—it was that heavy ache of uncertainty, the kind that lived in her ribcage since Utah. Since things hadn't felt quite whole.

The second she stepped inside, she spotted her dad in the kitchen rinsing out a mug. "Hey, Dad?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even. "Did Austin leave?"

He turned, drying his hands on a dish towel. "Yeah, earlier this afternoon," he said casually. "Said he needed to take care of a few things, but he'd be back later."

She nodded slowly, but it didn't settle the butterflies. If anything, they fluttered harder, more erratic. She didn't know what the few things were. She didn't know if he'd gone to his mom's. She didn't know if he was angry or just giving her space.

She just didn't know. And that made her chest hurt.

Her mom came in behind her and gave her a reassuring look, like she could see it all written across Mair's face without her saying a word.

Mair pressed a hand to her belly, closing her eyes for a beat. The baby shifted slightly beneath her palm.

Mair went straight upstairs without saying much else. Her limbs felt heavier with each step, like every inch of her was soaked in worry. She headed into the bathroom, flicked on the light, and went through the motions doing anything to distract her. Anything to pull herself back to center.

She peeled off her clothes and stepped into the warm spray of the shower, letting it hit her face, her shoulders. Steam curled around her, and she stood still for a long time, arms wrapped around her belly. Her thoughts spun, fast and tired. She hated how the fight had gone. Hated how she'd snapped. How she brought up his infidelity. She didn't want to hold it over him. She knew she couldn't do that to him if she wanted to

work through it, it would never work otherwise. She knew he'd only been trying to help and she was overwhelmed. But knowing didn't stop the guilt or the ache.

After the shower, she tugged on an old sweatshirt and pajama shorts, smoothing a face mask onto her skin. Something about the routine was comforting, like muscle memory from calmer days. She lit the anthropologie candle by her bed and dimmed the lamp, trying to create a little sanctuary in the quiet.

Nymeria hopped up at the foot of the bed, curling into her usual spot like she knew her girl needed her close tonight.

Mair pulled her blankets tight around her and turned the tv on, clicking through until she landed on The Righteous Gemstones. She needed something ridiculous, something that might shake a laugh loose. The intro music kicked in and the familiar absurdity started to play across the screen, but her smile was faint, soft around the edges.

She was sitting in the dark, wrapped in warmth and the faint flicker of the TV. Her hand absently rested on her belly, thumb rubbing over the fabric of her sweatshirt. Nymeria's soft breathing was the only other sound in the room. Just waiting for Austin to come back.

Mair had started to drift, the soft hum of the TV washing over her as her body finally began to surrender to exhaustion. Her back was to the door, curled beneath her blankets, Nymeria warm at her feet.

Then the door creaked open.

She stirred faintly, unsure if she was dreaming until the mattress dipped gently beside her and a familiar hand began to rub slow, soothing circles along her back.

She blinked, turning over groggily, her eyes meeting his.

Austin's voice was low, rough around the edges. "Hey baby. Sorry it's late."

Her voice was small, her heart fluttering as her eyes searched his face. "Where did you go?"

He exhaled through his nose, brushing a bit of hair from her cheek. "Ran a couple errands then went to my mom's for dinner. We just talked."

She swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. "About me?"

Austin smiled, thumb grazing her jaw as he tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "You may have come up," he said softly. "You usually do."

Mair sat up slowly, folding the blanket down from her chest as she looked at him in the soft light. Austin stayed where he was on the edge of the bed, his hand resting gently on her leg.

She exhaled. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

He shook his head immediately. "Don't. You don't need to say sorry, I deserved it."

"No, I do," she said, voice trembling now. "I was mean and I know I was being controlling, and it wasn't about the pajamas, not really. And I shouldn't have brought up the other stuff like that. I just—" She broke off, swallowing hard, the tears already brimming. "It's like everything has to be perfect and it's only been heightened since the pregnancy. I have to control the things I can or I feel like I'm drowning."

Austin's heart cracked. He shifted to face her more fully, cupping the side of her face as her shoulders started to shake. "I'm sorry too. I know how much work you've been putting into organizing the nursery. I thought I was helping, but I should've asked. I know it's about feeling safe."

She wiped at her cheeks but more tears spilled over. "It is," she whispered. "And it's also like—I'm scared to let you all the way back in because what if I do and then I lose you again? I don't know if I could survive that this time. Not with her coming. Not with how close it is now."

Austin pressed his forehead to hers. "You're not gonna lose me. I promise you. You can be mad at me, you can yell, and cry. I'll sit in it with you every time. I'm not walking away from you and her."

Her voice cracked. "We don't do this. We don't fight and then walk away."

"I know," he said. "That's not who we are. And today I hated not fixing it right away. But I thought you needed space."

"I did," she whispered, nodding, "but I also needed you."

His thumb brushed another tear from her cheek. "I need you, too. So much."

Mair leaned into his touch, her hand resting over his heart. It was racing beneath her palm, just like hers was.

"I just want her to come into a world where everything's okay," she said. "I want her to see us and know she's safe, that we're strong."

Austin's voice wavered now, thick with his own emotion. "She will. Because we are. We're not perfect, but we're strong. You've always made me stronger."

A small sob slipped from her lips and he caught her as she collapsed into him, wrapping his arms around her tight. She buried her face in his neck and finally let herself come apart completely.

He held her through it all. The stress and obsessive thoughts that had clouded her head all day finally quieted the moment she settled against him. With her cheek resting on his chest and his arms wrapped securely around her, it was like her body finally gave in. The tension in her shoulders melted, her breathing evened out, and within minutes, she was asleep—safe, for the first time all day, in the one place that still felt like home.

Austin didn't move for a long time.

Her breathing had evened out against his chest, slow and soft, the way it only got when she was in deep sleep. One of her hands still clung lightly to his shirt, like even in sleep she didn't want him to go too far. He smoothed his palm down her spine, slow and steady, matching the rhythm of her breaths—calming her and himself.

He looked down at her, the tear tracks still faintly visible on her cheeks, and something twisted deep in his chest. God, he hated seeing her like that. All wound up with nowhere to put it, scared of things she couldn't say out loud until they spilled out in a sob. She'd always been strong, always steady, but pregnancy had cracked her wide open in ways he didn't think anyone could be ready for.

He could've kicked himself for messing up something as small as a pile of pajamas. But he knows that the cheating is still simmering under the surface and it bubbled over today. But she came back wanting to talk to him. That has to mean something.

He was here, he was staying. God, he wanted to scream it, carve it into stone if she needed proof. He wasn't going anywhere.

It was just after eight when Mair's phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced over from where she was folding tiny onesies on the nursery rug, her back pressed against the wall. The name flashing on her screen made her stomach flip.

Austin: Just landed. Can I come over?

She stared at it for a second. She just simply typed:

Mair: Yeah. Come.

Austin didn't even stop at his moms, he just had the driver take him straight to Mair.

The car rolled down her parents' block, headlights casting soft pools on the quiet street. The second it parked, he was out with his duffel slung over his shoulder and a folded t-shirt sticking out from the side. His heart beat a little faster, as it always did when he stepped onto this porch. It wasn't his house, but it had always felt like home.

The front door creaked open before he could knock. Her mom stood there in a soft navy sweater and smiling just enough to say she wasn't mad.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said.

"Hey, Mrs. Callahan." He dropped his bag and leaned in for a quick hug, one that was more familiar than awkward now.

And then, like a bullet, Nym came barreling around the corner, nails clicking against the hardwood, ears flopping with every bounce. She let out an excited bark and leapt up, tail wagging wildly as she circled Austin's legs.

"There's my girl," he grinned, crouching to scratch

behind her ears. "You miss me, Nymmy?"

"Don't rile her up," her mom warned gently, though she was clearly amused.

Mair's dad popped his head around the corner from the den. "Austin," he said with a short nod. Not warm, but not cold either.

"Hey, sir. Good to see you." And he meant it.

he

The tension that had once filled this house like fog had mostly lifted. No one was pretending the past didn't happen, but the future was coming either way and he was part of it, whether they liked it or not.

He straightened up and asked, "She upstairs?"

Her mom nodded toward the hallway. "Nursery."

He didn't hesitate. Nym trotted ahead like she knew exactly where they were going. The nursery door was open just a crack. The soft glow of the corner lamp spilled into the hallway, golden and warm. He paused there for a second, hand on the doorframe, just watching her.

She looked beautiful, her hair twisted into a loose bun, a sweatshirt hanging off her shoulder, legs tucked under her as she folded baby clothes with quiet focus. She didn't notice him until Nymeria nudged the door wider with her nose and padded in.

Mair looked up and when her eyes met his, something in her whole face softened. Like relief. Like she'd been waiting to exhale.

"You're here," she said quietly.

"I'm here," he replied. "For good."

She blinked quickly and gave a little nod, not trusting herself to say more.

He stepped inside and set the duffel down. Nym flopped dramatically onto the rug like she already belonged there, and Austin moved slowly toward her, dropping into a seated position beside her. He didn't rush anything, just offered a small smile.

"Brought you something," he said, pulling a folded grey t-shirt with pink lettering from the side pocket of his bag. "From the new Cane's. It's what the crew's gonna wear when we open. Figured it might be the first in your collection of mom sleep shirts."

She let out a short laugh and took it from him. "God, I can't believe you're opening up a Cane's."

"It's perfect for me," he said.

They sat for a beat in silence, the unspoken weight of his words lingering in the air.

Then gently, with the care he'd learned to exercise around her again, he reached forward and rubbed her shoulders, softly and briefly. A wordless hello. A promise. She didn't pull away.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, blinking back the last of the tension.

"Better now."

Austin leaned down and pressed a kiss to her belly, his palm resting there afterward. "Hi, baby," he whispered. "It's your daddy. I'm home."

Mair watched him. She didn't say anything at first. But when he looked up, she reached for his hand and gave it the smallest squeeze.

It was quiet, but not uncomfortable.

She ran her hand over a stack of neatly folded swaddles, the rhythm of it soothing, and glanced at him with a small smile. "How'd the promo photoshoot go?"

Austin leaned back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him, one knee bent just enough to bump against hers. "Good," he said, nodding. "Really good, actually. The place is coming together. The outside signage is up, and the photos turned out sick. Got a couple with the whole team, then a few solo ones they'll probably use for press. I even managed to smile in a few."

Mair laughed lightly. "Proud of you for that."

He grinned. "Thanks, but I kept thinking about coming home. About this room. About you folding all these tiny onesies."

She looked down at the pile in her lap, her cheeks pink, but she didn't say anything right away.

He reached over, brushed a lock of hair off her face, and added quietly, "I'm glad it went well. But I'm even more glad I'm back."

She smiled softly, fingers grazing the soft fabric of a pastel onesie before folding it and tucking it into the drawer. "I'm glad you're here too."

Austin's face softened. His hand reached for her shoulder again, just gently, enough to let her know he heard her and felt the shift in her voice. "How was your weekend with Caroline?"

"It was fun," she said, leaning slightly into his touch. "We did yoga—well, it was technically a prenatal class, but she joined and we did a lot of shopping. She kept saying I was nesting."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "You have been lately. But it's sweet."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sweet?"

"Yeah," he said, glancing around the nursery like it was the coziest place he'd ever seen. "It's like—you're building her little world already. Our baby girl is gonna be so set up. Closets full of tiny clothes, bookshelves stocked, a rocking chair in the corner. She's got a mom who's already loving her this much before she's even here."

Mair exhaled slowly, her expression softening with something unspoken. Her hands stilled over a stack of folded blankets, and she gave him a look that said she wasn't quite ready to say everything, but she saw him trying. And that meant something.

Mair laughed lightly as she pulled a soft pink swaddle blanket from the drawer. "Oh and Care said Henry brought up marriage."

Austin's head snapped up a little from where he was still rubbing her shoulders. "No shit?"

"Yeah." She glanced at him with a small smile.

"Apparently he's been thinking about it for a while."

Austin chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Damn, Henry."

But even as he said it, the thought snagged somewhere deeper. That could've been them. Should've been, maybe. If he hadn't—"

He didn't finish the thought. Mair didn't look upset. If anything, she looked genuinely happy for her best friend, even a little wistful, but not in a sad way. She folded another onesie with calm, steady hands, like she was at peace in this little corner of her world. Still, the idea tugged at him, how easily that could've been their next chapter. How much he wanted it, and how badly he'd derailed it all.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Now wasn't the time. He didn't want to bring the weight of what they'd lost into the quiet comfort of the nursery. Not when she was finally letting him back into her space like this.

Instead, he let out a soft sigh and leaned forward, pressing his hand into her shoulder again. "I'm happy for them," he said simply, letting it land between them.

Mair glanced at him sideways, her smile still soft. "Me too."

Mair leaned back against the wall of the nursery, her hand absentmindedly resting on her belly as she let out a soft chuckle, the kind that slowly grew into something fuller, unfiltered.

"Oh my god," she started, already laughing before the story even came out, "you'll appreciate this. So, at the yoga class, Care was the only one there not pregnant, right?"

Austin glanced over with a crooked grin, already sensing where this was going. "Right..."

"Well," Mair continued, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably, "we're doing this super slow, gentle flow, like all of us pregnant and waddling and modifying everything, and she—my very not-pregnant, able-bodied best friend... falls over. Just tips. Like a tree."

Austin barked out a laugh. "No way."

"She had the worst balance out of everyone there," Mair said through fits of giggles, wiping at her eyes. "There's this one girl in her third trimester who was doing squats like no problem and then there's Caroline, flailing like she's never seen the floor before."

Austin couldn't help but laugh with her, the sound of her joy filling the small room like sunlight. God, he'd missed this. Not just being here, folding socks and talking about yoga mishaps, but seeing her like this. Really seeing her.

"You sound like you had the best time," he said,

watching her with something soft and reverent behind his eyes.

"I really did," Mair said, calming down and catching her breath, a small smile lingering on her lips. "We couldn't stop laughing. I think we embarrassed ourselves, but it was so worth it."

Austin reached for another tiny sock and nodded, still grinning. "I'm glad. That laugh? I've missed that."

Her eyes met his for a beat, and though nothing was said, the warmth between them lingered. Quiet. Familiar. Hopeful.

Austin shifted a little closer, his hoodie brushing against her arm as he settled beside her on the nursery floor. The soft hum of the baby monitor buzzed faintly behind them, though it didn't really serve a purpose yet. There was no baby to listen for—just the quiet, shared space between them and the onesies Mair had meticulously been folding into neat little stacks.

He reached for the bottle of water he'd brought up, took a sip, then set it down on the floor. His eyes flicked to her, watching the way she leaned slightly forward, sorting through a pile of burp cloths with practiced movements. She was calm, but he knew her, knew the little tension in her shoulders meant she'd been on her feet too long, or thinking too much.

Without overthinking it, his hand moved toward her thigh, fingers curling gently over the fabric of her sweats. He rested his palm there, solid and familiar. He started tracing slow, soft circles with his thumb. She didn't flinch. Didn't stiffen. She just let him.

It gave him more relief than he could say.

"How'd the doctor's appointment go?" he asked

quietly, still keeping the touch gentle, like any wrong move could break the moment. "I really wish I was there."

Mair looked up from the burp cloths and met his eyes. There was no accusation in her expression or edge, just a quiet understanding. The kind only people with ten years of history shared.

"It was good," she said with a little nod. "Pretty quick. Everything looks good. She's measuring right on track."

Austin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His lips tugged into a soft smile, eyes briefly dropping to her belly, now rounded under her loose t-shirt.

"That's good," he murmured, voice slightly rough. "That's—really good."

"I told her about the weird back pain I've been having," Mair added, shifting a little. "And she said it's normal. I'm just carrying low."

He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. "Of course you are. Overachiever already, just like her mom."

That earned the tiniest smile from her—small, but it was there.

She leaned back slightly, hands falling to rest over her bump. Austin's thumb never stopped moving against her leg, grounding her. It was such a simple thing, but it made her feel safe and less alone with all of it.

"I'm glad everything's good," he said again, more quietly this time. "And I'm really glad I'm back. I hated being away. Especially now."

Her eyes flicked over to him again, softer now.

"I know you did," she said, her voice quieter too. "I'm happy you're here, Austin."

Austin cleared his throat, eyes flicking to the floor for a beat like he was gearing up for something. Mair looked at him sideways, brows raised just slightly in a way that said, go on.

"I, uh," he started, then scratched the back of his neck. "I wrote a song."

That got her attention. She sat up a little straighter. "When you were in Utah?"

He nods, "Yeah, it was pretty quick, just flowed out. I actually recorded it already. Sent it to Andrew...he produced it up a bit."

Her eyes widened, warm with curiosity. "Do I get to hear it?"

He pulled his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and nodded. "If you want to."

"I want to."

With a quiet tap, he pulled up the file, then pressed play.

The soft swell of music filled the nursery, low and hazy at first, until his voice came in—raspy and vulnerable in that way only Austin could sound. He didn't look at her while it played. Just kept his eyes on the little pile of baby socks in his lap, thumbs twisting them absently as the lyrics unfolded.

Oxytocin makin' it all okay

When I come back down, it doesn't feel the same

Now I'm sittin' 'round, waitin' for the world to end all day

'Cause I couldn't leave you if I tried—

The words wrapped around her, gentle but raw. Mair felt the burn of tears at the back of her throat before she even noticed her eyes watering. The lyrics were honest. A little messy. Like him. Like them. He still wouldn't look at her when the chorus hit.

Outside of the party, smokin' in the car with you

Seven Nation Army, fightin' at the bar with you

Tell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do

'Cause I can't let go, it's chemical—

By the end, her vision had blurred, tears pooling as she blinked down at her lap.

The music faded out.

"I love it," she said quietly, wiping beneath her eye with her knuckle. "I really love it, Austin."

He smiled at that, still hesitant but proud. Like hearing her say it made it real.

"I thought you said we were cosmic," she added, voice soft.

Austin finally looked at her, grinning a little through the tension in his jaw.

"Cosmic, chemical," he said, shrugging, "something like that."

And they both laughed just a little. Just enough.

It was getting late. The nursery had gone quiet except for the occasional hum of traffic outside the window and the gentle rustling of folded baby clothes being tucked away. Mair stifled a yawn and pressed a hand to the small of her back, wincing a little.

"Hey," she murmured, glancing over at him as he sat cross-legged on the rug, still gently rolling a pair of baby socks between his fingers. "Can you hold me for a bit? Maybe take some of the pressure off. She's sitting extra low tonight."

Austin looked up immediately, his expression softening. This felt like an offering after he just spilled a little of his heart. i'm"Of course."

He stood and gave her space to head into her bedroom, letting her move at her own pace. She disappeared for a few minutes—brushing her teeth, changing into one of his old t-shirts that she'd quietly reclaimed because it was soft and oversized and still smelled a little like him.

By the time she climbed into bed, he was already there, settled on his side with the covers pulled back, waiting. She crawled in beside him, her back facing him, and he scooted closer, wrapping an arm gently around her middle and letting his hand rest below the curve of her belly.

His other hand slid across her shoulders, rubbing slow, steady circles like he had earlier. She let out a sigh, her entire body easing into the warmth of his chest against her back.

"Better?" he asked softly, his voice low and close to her ear.

She hummed. "Yeah...so much better."

Mair and Caroline showed up to their dinner reservation at The Albert, just a short walk from The Langham, but even that few blocks felt like a marathon after a day on their feet. They arrived with hands full of Anthro bags, Sephora, the tiny Alice & Wonder bag with the matching baby hat safely tucked inside. Both of them looked slightly windblown but glowy from the day, cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter.

The host raised an amused eyebrow at the sight of the shopping haul but greeted them warmly. "Looks like a successful day."

"You have no idea," Mair said, trying to subtly stretch her back as Caroline nodded in agreement, shifting her weight from one sore foot to the other.

"Our feet are about to fall off," Caroline added, laughing. "We've walked like twelve miles and emotionally bonded over hats."

The host chuckled as he led them to a quiet corner table, and Mair sighed in relief as she eased into her seat, setting her bags down with a dramatic thump.

Caroline followed, slipping off her coat and dropping into her chair like it had been sent from heaven. "I might live here now. At this table."

Mair leaned back with a smile. "You say that now, just wait until the food comes."

Caroline scanned the menu, her eyes lighting up. "This is your pick, right? God, you've gotten fancy since I saw you last."

Mair shrugged, unbothered. "I just follow the recs on TikTok and call Austin when I need to make a reservation at a place with more than three dollar signs."

Caroline snorted. "Luxury."

Mair quips with "you know I hate having to call people so it just works out".

The waiter approached their table with a warm smile, clearly unfazed by the bags piled around them. "Ladies, welcome. Can I start you off with anything to drink?"

"Yes, please," Caroline said immediately, brushing her windblown hair behind her ears. "I'll do a French 75, heavy on the champagne, please. We've earned it."

Mair flipped the menu once more before glancing up. "Can I do a mocktail version of that? Something citrusy and bubbly?"

"Absolutely," the waiter said, jotting it down. "I've got just the thing."

The second he walked away, Caroline leaned forward and whispered, "I love when places don't make mocktails weird."

"I know," Mair said, already scanning the entrées like a woman on a mission. "I'm so hungry, I could cry."

They didn't waste time when the waiter returned. Caroline pointed right at the menu. "I'll do the truffle mushroom dish. And can we get the burrata to start?"

Mair nodded quickly. "And I'll have the roasted chicken with the lemon herb potatoes and asparagus, please. That sounds amazing."

"You got it," the waiter said, smiling again as he scribbled their order.

Once he walked away, Mair slumped back in her chair with a sigh. "Okay, that was a power move. Food ordered before drinks are even on the table."

"Because we're grown," Caroline said. "Grown and starving."

Mair laughed, resting a hand on her belly. "And growing a whole person."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, if the baby doesn't come out loving burrata and Anthropologie candles, I'm gonna be disappointed."

"Don't worry," Mair said, grinning. "She'll have taste."

She took a sip of her drink, her eyes softening as she looked at Caroline. "So, how's the new job going? The school nurse thing, I mean."

Caroline sat back in her chair, looking thoughtful for a moment before she smiled. "It's been good, actually. Way less hectic than the ER, for sure. I get kids coming in for scrapes or headaches instead of, you know, the intense stuff."

Mair raised an eyebrow. "Must be a huge shift from the ER. I can't even imagine."

"I thought I'd miss the chaos," Caroline said, shrugging. "But honestly, it's kind of a relief. The kids are cute, and the drama is way more manageable. I feel like I'm actually making a difference and I'm really helping them, even if it's just making sure they feel okay."

Mair smiled, proud of her friend. "That sounds perfect for you. I bet you're great with the kids."

Caroline grinned. "Thanks. I've been telling myself I'm just one crisis away from a full-on panic attack, but so far, so good."

Caroline raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Are you still working? Or have you just been lounging around, eating pickles or something?"

Mair rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile. "No, I'm still working. My boss has been really good to me, especially since I haven't been in Utah for months. She's been letting me work from home, which has been a huge relief."

Caroline nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "That's great, though. Must help to have that routine, even with everything else going on."

"It really does," Mair said, taking a sip of her drink. "I think the distraction helps. It keeps me busy and gives me something else to focus on, other than— you know, everything and my own brain running wild."

Caroline leaned back in her chair, her eyes softening. "I get that. It's like you need something that's just yours to stay sane."

"Exactly," Mair agreed. "It's been nice, but I'm also really ready for maternity leave. I know I won't have to worry about work for a while, and I'm looking forward to just focusing on the baby. But I'll admit, work's been a good way to keep my brain occupied."

"Yeah, I can imagine. It must be nice to have that balance, even if it's just for a little longer." Caroline smiled warmly at her. "You're doing great, you know."

Mair smiled back, a little overwhelmed by how much it meant to have her friend there with her. "Thanks, Care. That means a lot."

She tilted her head, fixing Caroline with a knowing look. "So—how's Henry?" she asked, casually but with a mischievous little grin tugging at her mouth. "Still cute and overly polite?"

Caroline gave her a long, slow blink. "Ha Ha."

Mair's grin widened.

Caroline rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the smile creeping in. "He's good," she said, dragging out the word, clearly knowing exactly where this was going. "Really good, actually. Working a lot. The new firm's been keeping him slammed but he's been happy."

Mair let out a dramatic sigh. "My sweet Henry. Just out here doing well. Breaking hearts with those accountant spreadsheets."

Caroline snorted. "Yeah, nothing sexier than tax code compliance."

"You joke, but that boy wears a button-up like it's his job."

"It is his job."

"Exactly," Mair said, smirking.

Caroline hesitated for a beat, then added, "He actually brought up marriage recently."

Mair blinked, sitting up a little straighter. "Wait. Like marriage marriage?"

Caroline nodded, swirling her water with her straw. "Yeah. Not like 'Will you marry me?—more like, 'Do you ever think about it?' And we just talked about it. Like normal people. No freakouts. No weird energy. It felt kind of right."

Mair let out a low whistle. "Damn. That's my boy."

Caroline's cheeks flushed, but she smiled. "Yeah. I think we're kind of heading that way. Slowly. Comfortably."

Mair grinned but there was something softer in her eyes now. "That's really good, Care. I'm happy for you."

Mair couldn't help but feel a mixture of nostalgia and something else she couldn't quite place. "Remember when Henry..." she trailed off, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the car door. Caroline raised an eyebrow, clearly curious, but Mair continued before she could say anything.

"Remember when he showed up at my birthday party in that ridiculous sweater?" Mair's voice took on a teasing tone. "It was, like, neon orange with some kind of retro design on it, like he was trying to fit into the '80s but forgot the memo."

Caroline laughed, rolling her eyes. "Oh my god, how could I forget? You wouldn't stop making fun of him for it."

"I didn't mean to be cruel! I thought I was helping him understand fashion!" Mair grinned. "But he was so determined to wear it, like, 'Oh, I like it.' Like we were all supposed to be impressed with his boldness. Especially you, he wanted to impress you."

"To be fair, it was very him," Caroline said, smiling at the memory. "But at least he owns it."

Mair snorted. "Yeah, he owns it like a champ. And then he tried to give a whole explanation about how it was 'vintage' and 'one-of-a-kind.' I had to just nod and laugh along because I could see the poor guy was so earnest about it."

"Henry's always been the most adorable, clueless person when it comes to stuff like that," Caroline said with fondness, shaking her head.

"Totally," Mair replied, a soft chuckle slipping out. "But remember how he spent, like, the next hour looking at every guy's outfit at the party to make sure no one was judging him?"

Caroline burst out laughing. "I swear, if there was one person at that party who had no idea what was going on, it was Henry."

"Poor guy," Mair said, still laughing, though a soft fondness laced her words. "But you know what? He might be a little oblivious with fashion, but that's part of why I love him. He's so endearing in his own way."

Caroline's expression softened as she looked out the window. "Yeah. He's my rock. I never thought I'd say that about the guy who wore that sweater, but here we are."

Mair smiled, feeling a tinge of warmth in her chest. "I'm really happy for you two, Care. Like, really happy."

Caroline's gaze softened. "Thanks, Mair. That means a lot."

Mair continued, a teasing but sincere smile forming. "You guys are my closest friends, and the idea of you two getting married is just amazing. I'm glad it's him you're with. You deserve all that good stuff."

Their food arrived, hot plates laid out in front of them with the soft clink of ceramic and silverware. Mair didn't wait, she immediately dug into her chicken, the kind of hunger that only came with pregnancy and emotional exhaustion taking over. Caroline picked at her pasta for a second before they both fell into a comfortable, quiet rhythm, the sounds of other diners and soft music from the bar filling the silence between them. It wasn't awkward. It was the kind of silence that only came from years of friendship, a pause, not a wall.

After a few minutes, Caroline glanced up, fork twirling in her hand, and asked gently, "Do you want to talk about Austin?"

Mair didn't look up from her plate.

"I mean," Caroline continued, "I'm pissed. Obviously. Because I care about you. And he was a total idiot." Her voice was steady, not judgmental. "But— honestly? No judgment from me. I'm all ears if you do want to talk. No pressure though."

Mair set her fork down and sighed, taking a sip of her water before answering.

"I don't want to dampen the mood," she said, forcing a small smile, "especially after you just told me my two best friends are probably going to get married soon."

Caroline chuckled. "Not soon. Just talking about it. Big difference."

Mair smirked, but her eyes were tired.

Caroline leaned forward slightly. "Come on. You've barely even said his name all night. That's not like you. Even when you were mad before, you always still  talked about him."

There was a beat of hesitation before Mair exhaled, slumping slightly in the booth. "We kind of had a heart-to-heart in Texas."

Caroline didn't interrupt. She just nodded, eyes open and patient.

Mair looked down at her plate, then back up, fidgeting with her napkin. "I don't know what I feel. Like, I've been compartmentalizing him. As a dad, and then separately as a partner. And as a dad?" She nodded. "I know he'll be good. Like, he's already been so supportive. He's helpful, he shows up. I don't even have to ask. And I see the way he looks at me...at my stomach...and I know he loves this baby so much already."

Her voice cracked just a little, and she paused to collect herself. "But then there's—us," she continued. "Me and him. And I don't know. That part still feels so raw. Like, how am I supposed to trust that again? How do you let yourself be soft around someone who broke your heart? But I know he still loves me, he shows me everyday."

Caroline's brow furrowed with empathy. "It's not a switch you can flip. It's a process. You don't owe him anything just because he's stepping up now."

"I know," Mair murmured. "But sometimes it's like...there are these moments where he's still the Austin I grew up with. Like when we were in the car on the way to his dad's. He was singing along to some old Blink-182 song and doing that dumb voice he always used to do in high school, and for a second, I forgot everything. It felt like we were eighteen again."

Caroline smiled softly. "That's the hardest part, isn't it? When the history is still there."

Mair nodded. "Exactly. And I hate that part of me still wants to let him in. Because I don't know if that makes me forgiving or just stupid."

Caroline reached across the table and touched her hand. "It makes you human."

Mair blinked, then gave a quiet laugh. "God, I hate being human."

Caroline's expression softened, her tone dropping with sincerity. "But seriously, you two have so much history. You've been solid for so long. Since high school, Mair. You're not stupid for wanting to be with him. That's not weakness."

Mair let her eyes linger on the plate between them, her appetite gone now even though her chicken was half-eaten. Her shoulders sagged a little as she exhaled.

"It just sucks," she said quietly. "I don't think I'm angry anymore. I was angry for a long time. Like, boiling. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted him to hurt the way I was hurting. And now—I don't know. I'm just tired. I'm sad."

Caroline leaned her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand. "Maybe that means you're moving to the next stop. Slowly healing."

Mair blinked down at her water, then gave a small, lopsided smile. "Maybe."

The restaurant buzzed softly around them—clinking glasses, murmured conversations, the occasional shout from the kitchen. It all felt far away.

"It's just hard," Mair said after a moment, her voice lower now. "It's hard to have ten years of history. Of loyalty. Of never doubting him for a second. And then he makes this one mistake and...yeah, it's a big one. It killed me. I felt like I lost everything in one second."

She looked up, eyes glassy but not quite teary. "But is it wrong if I don't want to give up on us?"

Caroline shook her head. "No. It's not wrong. It's brave, actually."

Mair laughed softly.

"You know I'd be honest. And I'm not saying it's going to be easy, or even that it'll work out. But you loving someone, especially someone who's still fighting for you, who's showing up every day, that's not something to be ashamed of."

Mair let out another breath, heavier this time, like something was being let go of inside her. "I don't know where we go from here," she admitted.

"You don't have to," Caroline said. "You just have to figure out the next right step not the final destination. That's it."

They sat quietly again, this time more settled. The weight hadn't lifted, but it had shifted. Mair reached for her fork again and took another bite of chicken—small and tentative. Caroline gave her a half-smile.

Caroline leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of her water before raising an eyebrow at Mair. "You know, I can't wait to see Austin struggling to put that car seat in the car that I know he insisted on getting."

Mair couldn't help but laugh at the thought, the image of Austin, ever the perfectionist, stumbling over something so simple yet so important for the baby. It was one of those things that had felt impossible to imagine before, but now it felt like one of the countless milestones ahead.

"Honestly, I might just let him do it just so I can laugh at him," Mair said with a grin. "He'd probably take hours to get it in just right."

Caroline's eyes softened, and she shifted the mood with ease. "But seriously, Mair, I really think you two will be good parents. You're both figuring things out, and this—" she waved her hand, motioning between them, "—is just part of it. You've got this. And I truly believe you two could make it through this."

Mair's smile faded slightly, her eyes drifting toward the table as the weight of everything settled back in her chest. Caroline continued gently, "People make mistakes. And yeah, Austin's was a big one, and I can't even imagine how painful it must be. But he's human too. And I think—no, I know—he understands that. He knows he messed up, and I really believe he would do anything to make it right. Because he loves you. He's always loved you."

Mair bit her lip, a quiet sigh escaping. "He is trying," she admitted softly, her hand instinctively resting on her belly as she thought of the man who had been there for her for so many years. "He's been working on himself, staying sober...trying to fix his own shit."

Caroline gave her a knowing look, her expression sincere. "That's really good to hear. It sounds like he wants to prove to you that he's the man you fell for. He's trying to rebuild that trust, bit by bit."

Mair nodded slowly, her heart a little lighter with the weight of Caroline's words. "I know," she said quietly, more to herself than to Caroline. "I just...I don't know what's next. It's hard to keep going forward when everything feels like it's hanging in the balance."

Caroline reached across the table and squeezed her hand again. "You don't have to have it all figured out tonight, Mair. You're allowed to take your time with it. And—" She smiled softly. "You're not alone in this. You've got people who are here for you. Me, Henry, and, well—even Austin. He's in it, and he's doing what he can. You don't have to carry it all yourself."

The air between them felt easier now, the tension that had clung to Mair since the morning beginning to dissipate. Caroline was right. She didn't have all the answers, but maybe she didn't need to just yet. Maybe she could just take things one step at a time.

A deep breath in, Mair let herself feel the lightness of the moment, the simple fact that, in this moment, things were okay. And maybe, just maybe, they'd get there.

She smiled at Caroline. "Thanks, Care. I needed this."

"Anytime, Mair. Anytime."

Just as the conversation dipped into a comfortable silence, their plates mostly cleared, the waiter returned with a warm smile. "Would you ladies like to see a dessert menu?"

Mair didn't hesitate. "God, fuck yes."

She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

Caroline burst out laughing, and even the waiter chuckled. "No need to apologize," he said, amused. "That's the best reaction I've gotten all day."

Mair grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm just... pregnant. And sweet things have become the most important part of my food pyramid."

The waiter nodded understandingly. "Say no more. I'll bring over the dessert menu. But if you want my recommendation—it's the warm brownie skillet or the lemon tart."

"Both," Mair said instantly, making Caroline snort.

"I mean, we could share," Caroline said, grinning as the waiter handed them the menu.

"Right," Mair said. "We'll share... in the loosest sense of the word."

They ended up ordering the brownie skillet, the lemon tart, and—at Caroline's suggestion—a scoop of espresso gelato on the side. Once the waiter disappeared again, Mair leaned back in her chair, hands protectively cradling the curve of her bump.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" Caroline asked, lifting her water glass to her lips.

"I was thinking we could try this yoga class in the morning," Mair said. "It's technically for pregnant women, but—"

Caroline cut in immediately. "That sounds fun. Let's do it."

Mair raised a brow. "Really?"

"Absolutely. I want to be the supportive best friend who does prenatal yoga and immediately regrets it halfway through."

They both laughed, the kind that came from deep comfort and familiarity.

"We should see what shows are on Broadway while you're here," Mair added, cutting into the tart once it arrived and setting it between them.

"Oh yeah," Caroline said through a mouthful of brownie. "It's been forever since we saw something together. Remember when we saw Wicked and you cried during 'For Good'?"

"I'll cry again," Mair said unapologetically, licking a bit of chocolate from her fork. "Hormones or not, that song hits."

Dessert turned into a string of nostalgia, future plans, and casual teasing. They lingered long after the plates were cleared, warm and full and wrapped in the kind of conversation that felt like home.

Eventually, they gathered their shopping bags and leftover containers, stepping out into the cool Chicago night. The sidewalks were slick with a recent drizzle, city lights reflecting in tiny pools along the street. The buildings glowed softly above them, and they walked side by side, their laughter echoing down the block.

"God, I forgot how much I love this city," Caroline said, hugging her coat tighter around her.

Mair glanced at her with a soft smile. "Me too. It's nice to just... be here with my bestfriend."

They kept walking toward the hotel, the quiet hum of the city filling the spaces between their words. It was exactly what Mair needed—calm and filled with the kind of love that never wavered.

As they reached the entrance of the hotel, Mair paused for a second, looking up at the warm lights glowing from their suite several floors above. Caroline held the door open, nudging her in with her shoulder, and they both laughed as they stepped into the lobby, their arms full of bags and hearts a little lighter than before.

Later, as Mair got ready for bed, her feet propped up on a pillow and the hum of the city below lulling her into a kind of peace she hadn't felt in a while, her thoughts drifted and inevitably landed on him. Austin was still in Utah for a few more days, finishing up studio work and tying up loose ends before returning to Chicago. She missed him. She hadn't said the words out loud, not to Caroline, not even to herself really, but they sat heavy in her chest, true and constant.

It had been a couple of days since Austin left for Utah, and while Mair would never admit it out loud, everything felt quieter without him. She missed the background hum of his voice, the way he'd rest a hand on her belly like it was second nature, the way he'd laugh when she got hormonal and snapped at a cereal box like it had personally wronged her.

But she wasn't letting herself dwell too much. Not today.

Her best friend from college, Caroline, was coming in from Minnesota for a few days. She was the one who'd been with her through dorm room meltdowns, finals week cry-fests, and the heartbreak of long-distance. They'd splurged on a hotel downtown instead of staying at her parents' place in the suburbs. A mini girls' staycation before Mair's life became bottles and onesies.

Mair parked in the pickup lane outside Union Station in her new G-Wagon, the engine humming low beneath her. She still hadn't fully adjusted to how high up she sat in the thing or how people stared like she was someone important. She wasn't, she reminded herself that she was just a very pregnant girl with a rapper boyfriend—or whatever he was to her right now and a stubborn streak. But damn if the car wasn't nice.

She spotted Caroline through the windshield with a bright red tote bag slung over one shoulder, hair in a ponytail, face lighting up like Christmas when she saw Mair behind the wheel. Caroline yanked open the door, threw her bag in the back, and slid into the passenger seat with a dramatic gasp.

"Oh my God, you got a G-Wagon?" she said, looking around like she'd just stepped into a music video.

Mair grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. It's...pretty sick, honestly."

Caroline didn't even hesitate as she leaned over the center console and hugged her tight, her arms wrapping awkwardly around the bump. "Look at you. It's totally different seeing you in person. You're glowing. And you're huge—in like, a beautiful, you're-making-a-whole-person kind of way."

Mair laughed, pulling back and putting the car into drive. "God, I'm so happy to see you. I didn't realize how much I needed this."

They pulled away from the curb and into traffic, the G-Wagon drawing more than a few side-eyes and double takes.

"So," Caroline said, kicking her feet up on the dash like she always did when they used to drive around campus. "Where are we staying again?"

Caroline blinked. "What is that?"

"It's just a hotel," Mair replied quickly, but her tone gave her away. "But I did have to have Austin call to get the reservation."

Caroline's laugh filled the car. "Thank you, baby daddy! Okay, so it's fancy-fancy"

Mair rolled her eyes with a grin. "It's close to everything! And they have good food and a spa and—"

"—robes, probably," Caroline added. "And pillows so fluffy you forget your own name."

"Exactly," Mair laughed.

Caroline grinned. "And how are you feeling, Mama?"

Mair let out a breath, turning onto Wacker Drive as the river glimmered beside them.

"Tired. Like, a weird kind of tired. But good. Emotional. I cry at Subaru commercials and then immediately crave hot dogs."

"Ah, the classics," Caroline nodded. "But you look great. Seriously. It's been way too long."

They both fell quiet for a moment as they cruised through downtown, the city buzzing around them.

"You've got a whole new life now," Caroline finally said. "New car, new baby on the way, sort-of-still-boyfriend with face tattoos. I can't believe we used to split bagels and cry about midterms, and now you're about to be someone's mom."

Mair smiled, a little wistfully. "Yeah...me neither."

Caroline reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "You're still you, though. Just with better a skincare routine ."

Mair snorted. "And some intense pelvic pressure."

They both cracked up just as Mair pulled into the circular drive of The Langham, valets already rushing forward.

"You're gonna kill it, you know," Caroline said as they gathered their bags.

Mair gave her a look. "As a mom or parking this tank?"

"Both," Caroline grinned. "But mostly the mom part."

The revolving doors at The Langham spun open with a soft whoosh as the doorman stepped forward and gave them a warm nod. Caroline clutched the handle of her luggage like it might roll away on its own, already wide-eyed as they stepped into the quiet luxury of the marble-floored lobby. It smelled faintly of citrus, and the ceilings stretched high above their heads, draped in soft golden light.

"Okay," Caroline whispered, elbowing Mair gently, "this is not just a hotel. This is a vibe."

They approached the front desk, where a man in a tailored black suit greeted them with a polished smile. "Welcome to The Langham. Checking in?"

Mair stepped forward, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh, yeah. The reservation should be under—Post. Austin Post."

The man's fingers danced across his keyboard. "Yes, of course. We have you in the River View One-Bedroom Suite for two nights. You're all set."

Caroline glanced at Mair with a subtle raise of her eyebrows. River view.

"Here are your keys," the man continued, sliding two elegant, gold-trimmed cards across the counter. "The elevators are just to the left of the lounge. Please let us know if you need anything at all."

"Thanks," Mair said, her voice a little higher than usual. She wasn't used to places like this alone. Austin was, sure. But her? This felt like slipping into someone else's life for the weekend.

Once in the elevator, Caroline leaned against the mirrored wall and let out a quiet "holy shit."

Mair just laughed. The elevator opened to a quiet, carpeted hallway with soft lighting and a view of the river out the end window. They found their room, and Mair tapped the key card against the reader until it clicked open.

The moment they walked in, Caroline let out a breathless gasp. "Okay. What the actual—Mair."

The suite was stunning. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave them a panoramic view of the river and skyline. The beds were framed in velvet and warm neutral tones, and a deep soaking tub sat under a window in the marble bathroom. There was even a tray with sparkling water and chocolate truffles on the counter.

"This is one hell of a babymoon," Caroline said, dropping her duffel and spinning around to take it all in.

Mair rolled her eyes, laughing as she kicked off her sneakers. "God, don't say that. That word makes me itchy."

Caroline flopped dramatically onto the bed. "What? I'm honored you invited me. Most people take their husbands on babymoons."

Mair grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at her. "I don't have a husband. I have you."

Caroline caught it and hugged it to her chest. "Lucky me."

They both lay there for a second, just soaking in the stillness, the view, and the feeling of being in the same place again after so long.

Mair closed her eyes and exhaled. "This is exactly what I needed."

They freshened up and changed, nothing too fancy, just something more put together than their travel clothes. Mair tugged on a pair of loose jeans and an oversized oatmeal sweater, slipping her feet into her pink adidas sneakers. Caroline changed into high-waisted jeans, a striped long sleeve, and a cropped puffer.

Mair smoothed her hair into a low clip and dabbed on a bit of tinted moisturizer while Caroline reapplied mascara at the bathroom mirror.

"I figured we could go to the Art Institute first," Mair said, adjusting the strap on her crossbody bag. "Then walk through Millennium Park, see the Bean—because obviously."

"Tourist checklist," Caroline grinned. "I love it."

"Exactly." Mair checked her phone. "Then I thought we could go shopping on Michigan Avenue. Just a few stores—maybe Zara, Aritzia, those kind of things."

"Oh hell yeah," Caroline said, grabbing her coat. "Retail therapy."

"And then I made a dinner reservations at The Albert," Mair added casually.

Caroline stopped short in the middle of shrugging on her jacket. "Fancy girl."

"It's not that fancy," Mair laughed. "But it's close by, and I figured it would be fun. They've got good mocktails and really good fries."

"You had me at fries," Caroline said, nudging her with a grin. "God, you planned the perfect day. You're kind of killing it as a baby mama right now."

Mair rolled her eyes, blushing as they headed out the hotel room door. "Don't say that. I just wanted to do something fun. This has been a lot lately."

Caroline looped her arm through hers. "And you're doing amazing. Also, I fully expect to pretend we're Real Housewives for the next forty-eight hours."

Mair smirked as they reached the elevator. "Deal. But only if I get to be the one who storms out of dinner dramatically."

The elevator dinged open, and the city waited.

They stopped to take pictures at the Bean, laughing and dodging tourists like they weren't tourists themselves. Caroline insisted on taking some of just Mair, hyping her up like she was on a maternity magazine shoot.

"Okay wait stand right there. No, tilt your head a little, yes, perfect," Caroline said, crouching with dramatic focus. "You look so good. The bump is poppin'. You're like effortlessly chic. It's disgusting."

Mair rolled her eyes but posed anyway, hands on her belly, hair loose and windblown. When Caroline handed her the phone, she actually liked them. Her bump looked real, round, like a fact of life. Not hidden. Not styled. Just there.

She picked one where she was laughing, sent it to Austin without a caption. He texted back almost immediately.

Austin: That baby's already a city kid. Hope you and Care have the best time. Be safe.

Mair smiled, her heart pinching a little in the way it did whenever he surprised her with his softness. She locked her phone and nodded for them to keep going. "Let's cut through the garden."

Inside, the hush of the museum hit instantly, like stepping into another world. Mair breathed it in. This was her favorite place in the city. She used to come here alone during school breaks just to walk the galleries and clear her head.

They passed the crowd clustered around Monet's water lilies, then dipped into one of the quieter rooms off to the side. That's when Mair saw it, Mother and Child by Mary Cassatt.

The painting stopped her in her tracks. A woman sat in a wooden armchair, her child curled against her body, nestled under one arm. The light was soft, the colors warm, but the brushstrokes had weight to them, there was a gravity in the way the mother's hands curved around the baby, protective and tired all at once.

Mair didn't move.

Caroline caught her pause. "What's that one?"

"Cassatt," Mair said quietly. "She painted a lot of mothers."

She didn't say anything else for a moment, eyes tracing the woman's face. She didn't look blissful. She looked worn, like she had given so much of herself already and would keep doing it anyway. Not because she was expected to. Because she wanted to.

"She looks like you," Caroline said softly.

Mair shook her head, but not fully. "She looks like someone who didn't think this was how her life was going to go. But she's doing it anyway."

Caroline reached out and took her hand gently. "I think that's brave as hell."

After a beat, she exhaled and turned toward the next gallery.

"Come on, go look at the Monets now."

Caroline grinned. "Back to the pretty pastels. Got it."

She looped her arm through Mair's as they wandered forward with the echo of footsteps on marble behind them. Mair glanced back at the painting one last time.

That woman. That stillness. That quiet strength. It didn't feel like a mirror, exactly, but it felt like a message.

After the museum, Mair felt lighter. Calmer. Something about the quiet halls and familiar paintings had relaxed her. She and Caroline stepped out into the sun, ready to take on the rest of the afternoon in the city.

They made their way toward Michigan Avenue, weaving through the weekend crowds, half-talking, half-laughing, catching up on everything and nothing.

They wandered into Anthropologie with no real plan, just letting themselves get pulled in by the warm lighting and cozy smells of the store. Caroline immediately made a beeline for the racks of printed blouses, flipping through them with her usual speed and commentary.

"This one's cute. This one's too prairie. This one looks like something our freshman year roommate would've worn to class hungover."

Mair, meanwhile, had drifted straight to the home section like a magnet, stopping in front of a display of plush throw blankets and hand-poured candles in glass jars. She picked one up and turned it over in her hand, sniffing the lid with a soft sigh.

Caroline turned around and spotted her, arms already full of a blanket and two candle tins. "You're nesting."

Mair glanced up, unimpressed. "I don't even get that. What does that mean, nesting?"

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "You're preparing your cozy lil den for your baby bird. Obviously."

Mair rolled her eyes but didn't put the blanket down. "Okay. I just like soft things and nice smells. And I will be buying them. This has nothing to do with the baby. This is a personality trait."

"That's what all the moms say," Caroline teased, walking over with a blouse draped over her arm. "Next thing you know you'll be rearranging furniture at midnight and panic-ordering storage bins."

"I already did that last week," Mair deadpanned.

Caroline cracked up. "Oh my god. You're so deep in it."

Mair grabbed a pale cream ceramic candle with a simple design and held it up. "Tell me this doesn't belong on my nightstand."

"Honestly? It does."

They kept wandering, Mair trailing her fingers over velvet pillows and folding napkins, Caroline pulling her along whenever she lingered too long over a set of embroidered dish towels.

At one point, Mair paused at a small baby section with tiny knit booties and swaddles mixed in with the rest of the store's boho charm. She didn't say anything, but Caroline noticed the way her hand hovered over a pair of booties.

"Get those," she said gently. "You'll be glad you did."

Caroline grinned as she held up a soft, ribbed onesie with tiny daisies embroidered on the front. "Look at this," she said, practically bouncing on her heels with excitement. "It's like a tiny little summer dress but for a baby! Baby shopping is way too fun."

Mair looked at the onesie, the delicate petals and soft fabric tugging at her heart. "Okay, I need that too," she said, already reaching for it before Caroline could offer it up. She held it up to her stomach, imagining how cute their baby girl would look in it.

Caroline laughed, nodding in agreement. "Oh, baby girl will look absolutely adorable in this. You're going to be the cutest family."

They moved down the aisle, now focused on baby clothes, with Mair browsing through the soft fabrics and pastel colors. Caroline, on the other hand, was going full steam ahead, piling little dresses and sweaters on her arm, checking the sizes and pulling them from the racks with unbridled enthusiasm.

"This one's cute, and this one—and this one! Look, it's tiny," Caroline said, holding up a light pink cardigan with tiny bear ears on the hood.

Mair chuckled, watching Caroline become the ultimate baby clothes enthusiast. "How do you know so much about baby clothes?"

Caroline shrugged, unfazed. "I've been doing my research for when I'm the fun aunt who buys all the good stuff. No shame."

They weaved away from the baby section and into the racks of adult clothes, soft knits, flowy blouses, structured coats in muted spring colors. Caroline was already on the hunt, flipping through hangers like she was on a mission. She grabbed a silky button-down and a pair of wide-leg pants, holding them up to herself.

"I need these," she said with zero hesitation. "I don't even have a reason, I just need them. I've decided I'm entering my chic woman era."

Mair grinned, resting her hand on the curve of her belly as she trailed behind. "You're thriving," she said, watching her friend pile more clothes over her arm. "Seriously, I miss shopping like this."

Mair exhaled, half laughing. "God, I can't wait until I can wear normal clothes again. I miss zippers."

Caroline glanced over her shoulder. "Soon," she promised. Caroline turned and looked her up and down, smirking. "You look great though. Like glowing mom energy. And hot."

Mair gave her a look. "Hot mom in a stretchy waistband. Thanks."

Caroline held up a pair of jeans. "Manifesting this for you in six months."

Mair smiled, a little wistfully. "Deal. You just have to come back so we can do this again."

Caroline held out her pinky. "Promise. I'm not missing your post-baby fashion renaissance."

They walked out of Anthropologie with big paper shopping bags swinging from their arms, the handles digging a little into their shoulders but neither of them caring. The cold air hit them as they stepped back onto Michigan Avenue, cheeks flushed, grinning like they'd just gotten away with something.

"God, we're dangerous together," Caroline laughed, adjusting her scarf as they crossed the street. "It's like we black out and suddenly own six new candles and a baby sweater."

"And a wool blanket I didn't need," Mair added, giving her bag a little shake. "But will absolutely be using tonight."

They ducked into a nearby coffee shop, a cozy place with exposed brick and gold accents. Caroline ordered her go-to iced latte while Mair opted for a sparkling water and a buttery almond croissant.

"You and that baby need a little treat," Caroline said, nudging her as they waited.

"She's been busy today," Mair said, placing a hand on her belly. "She liked the museum. Kicked the whole time."

Caroline pulled out her phone and held it up. "Okay, wait, stand there. I'm taking a cute pic of you with your little pastry and sparkling water like a mom influencer."

Mair rolled her eyes, but posed anyway, laughing softly. "This is ridiculous."

"Yeah, but it's gonna be cute," Caroline said, snapping a few shots.

And it was cute. The lighting was soft, Mair looked glowy in her big sweater and knit scarf, her bump prominent but comfortable. She looked like herself.

Caroline looked over her shoulder. "Okay now us," she said, turning the camera for a selfie. They took a few laughing, one where they both tried to look serious and model-like but broke out mid-photo.

Mair looked at them afterward and smiled. "I'm really glad we're doing this."

"Me too," Caroline said.

Their next stop was Sephora. As soon as they walked in, Caroline made a beeline to the hair section. "Okay, this is my holy grail. You need it. Trust me."

Mair held the tiny glass bottle in her hand and blinked at the price. "This costs more than the baby sweater."

"Worth it," Caroline said, tossing it into Mair's basket. "New mom self-care. We're budgeting for vibes now."

"I'm not gonna fight you," Mair laughed. "I'm in too deep today."

They wandered into Alice & Wonder, a small boutique tucked between two other shops, the warm lighting and welcoming atmosphere immediately pulling them in. Mair felt a sense of comfort settle in her chest, this was the kind of place she loved. Soft music played in the background, and everything was neatly arranged but still felt cozy.

They made their way past racks of cute knitwear, perfect for the still-chilly Chicago weather, but it was the hat wall that caught their attention. There were shelves stacked with simple baseball caps and then there was a section of patches: little designs, phrases, and images meant to be customized onto the hats.

"I've never seen anything like this," Caroline said, her voice filled with excitement. "I need one."

"You're just saying that because we're in here, and you know I'll go along with whatever you suggest," Mair said, grinning.

Caroline threw her hands up in mock surrender. "What can I say? I'm a good influence."

They both walked closer to the wall of hats, exchanging glances as they started pulling out different ones. Eventually, they settled on matching sage-green baseball caps, both embroidered with "Chicago" in a cursive script that screamed local pride. It felt right. It felt fun.

"I'm doing it," Caroline declared, holding up the hat as if it were an award. "We're getting these, right?"

Mair laughed. "Of course we are. I can't resist a good matching moment."

Caroline's eyes narrowed in on a tiny matching baby version of the hat, tucked off to the side on a small display. Her fingers instantly reached for it, pulling it out with a grin. "Look! Baby version!"

Mair's heart skipped a beat. "I'm getting that."

She grabbed the little green hat, holding it up next to her own. "Now the baby will match her Auntie. She's gonna be so cute in this."

They laughed together, but neither of them could deny how adorable the mini hat was. The thought of the baby, wearing something so simple and sweet, made Mair's chest feel full in a way she hadn't expected.

They moved over to the patch station, where Mair picked out a small, shiny patch in the shape of the Bean. Caroline grabbed a smiley face patch, and they both held them up together, their excitement growing.

"Okay, no joke," Caroline said, as she examined their selections, "this is the best thing ever."

"I'm telling you, this is genius," Mair agreed, grinning. "We're gonna look like the cutest tourist duo, but better."

They couldn't stop laughing as they picked out a couple more patches, debating between all the patches, and finally agreeing on a little patch in the shape of the Bean and a smiley face they originally saw. After a few minutes of giddy decision-making, they had a full set of patches, all ready to be stitched on. As they checked out, the cashier gave them a knowing smile, clearly used to the energy they were bringing to the store.

"This is literally the best," Caroline said, hugging her bag to her chest as they stepped out of the store. "I feel like we're about to launch a new fashion trend or something."

Mair grinned, adjusting her own hat on her head. "If we're not, we're at least having fun. This day is perfect."

The black SUV glided to a stop in front of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz dealership, sunlight bouncing off the rows of pristine vehicles lined like polished chess pieces. Mair looked up from where she was lazily scrolling on her phone, then did a double-take as the driver shifted into park. Her jaw tightened. The unmistakable chrome emblem stared back at her from the glass doors like some kind of taunting dare.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, eyes narrowing. "Why are we here?"

Austin kept his tone calm, knowing full well this might go sideways fast. "You knew we were going to look at cars."

"Yeah," she shot back, "but there's so many other kinds of cars, Austin. I said simple and safe. This isn't simple. This is flashy. This screams—"

He cut in gently, "I know you want a G-Wagon. You've mentioned it, like, a million times over the last couple years. This felt like a good opportunity."

Her jaw dropped a little, like he'd missed the entire point. "No. We're not spending that much on a car right now."

"We've spent more," he said with a soft shrug.

"That's not the point!" she said, already flushed. "We have a baby on the way!"

"Exactly," he said, voice low now. Steady. "That's why. We're gonna be in Chicago for a while. We need something safe. Reliable. Comfortable. A good family car for us."

She looked away, biting the inside of her cheek, breathing hard through her nose. The last few weeks had been full of strange whiplash with her hormones being an absolute wreck. Her emotions constantly pulled her between softness and storm. One minute she was letting him rub her belly, saying sweet things about their daughter. The next, she looked at him like she was ready to murder him. Which, to be fair, wasn't exactly new. She'd been dealing with his bullshit since they were fourteen.

Austin kept his voice steady. "I promise this isn't some big grand gesture."

She turned toward him slowly, giving him a look. "Good because grand gestures won't make me take you back."

"I know," he said, serious now. "Mair, I swear that's not what this is. I want my girls safe. You're carrying my whole damn world. Nothing is too much when it comes to both of you."

She stared at him. Then shook her head, scoffing under her breath. "I don't want some huge gesture that screams, 'Sorry I knocked you up, here's a G-Wagon.'"

He didn't flinch. Didn't laugh. Just looked at her, his voice quiet and steady as he said, "I'm not sorry about that."

Her brows knit.

"I'm sorry about everything else," he went on. "But I'm not sorry we're having a baby. I'm not sorry we're bringing her into the world. That's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Even if we're not—whatever we used to be."

Her chest tightened, eyes pricking with tears before she could stop them. She let out a shaky breath, then half-laughed through it, covering her face for a second. "God, Austin."

He reached out and touched her knee gently. "I mean it. I'm not here to guilt you or pressure you. I just want to do right by both of you. Keep you safe. Show up. Be a dad. I'm trying."

She didn't speak for a long moment. Just wiped her face with the sleeve of the hoodie and shook her head like she couldn't decide whether to scream or hug him.

"You're so irritating," she finally muttered, voice thick.

"I know," he said, smiling carefully. "But I meant what I said."

"Fine," Mair said, exhaling as she opened the door. "But we're only looking."

"Sure," Austin nodded, the picture of innocence.

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" he said, hand to his chest.

"Like you already think you've won."

He raised his eyebrows but didn't deny it. Because the truth was he knew Mair. Knew that underneath her practicality and Midwestern sense of reason, there was a soft spot for nice things. She wasn't flashy like him. She didn't need to be. But she liked quality. She liked sleek, understated, well-made shit. She was still wearing that hoodie he left at her parents' place. The one from a limited drop, heavy cotton, custom dye, made like it'd last twenty years. She didn't always talk about labels, but she knew when something was built to last. And she had, more than once, said she liked G-Wagons. Not in a "get me one" kind of way—more like when one passed on the street, she'd nod and go, That's clean. That's sexy.

So yeah. He had a feeling.

By the time she stepped out of the car, hoodie pulled low over her bump and hair tucked behind her ears, Austin was already walking around to meet her. She looked around at the glass facade of the dealership like it personally offended her, but she didn't walk away. As they headed toward the entrance, a sharply dressed salesman stepped out, smoothing his tie with the practiced confidence of someone who sold very expensive things for a living. He was young, but not too young, probably early 30s, with clean-cut hair and the kind of confidence that came with a healthy commission check.

"Mr. Post," he said, smiling as he extended his hand. "Good to meet you. I'm Jason. Thanks for coming in."

Austin shook his hand, always polite, then motioned toward Mair. "This is Mair."

Jason gave her a warm but brief nod, clearly not recognizing her, which, if Mair noticed, only made her stand a little taller.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

She offered a polite smile, though her eyes still flicked around the lot like she was keeping score of every dollar being wasted. Jason clapped his hands together lightly. "We pulled a few G-Wagons for you to test drive. All brand new. Figured we'd give you a few options, depending on preference."

Mair blinked. "You pulled G-Wagons?"

Jason smiled, assuming the disbelief was from excitement and not fury. "Yes ma'am. We like to be prepared."

She shot Austin a look, "so you were planning this".

Austin shot her the same look right back, his eyes saying yes, but lets just hear the guy out. Her arms crossed over her chest, more of a self-soothing posture than one of defiance, and she blew out a breath.

"Of course you did," she muttered.

Jason led them through a wide hallway of polished tile and glass, toward the gleaming showroom floor. Mair kept a step behind, her arms loosely folded as her eyes darted between the massive vehicles on display. The closer they got, the more real it felt. The more huge the G-Wagons looked.

"These are the three we pulled," Jason said, gesturing proudly toward the lineupâ€"sleek, hulking things with pristine detailing and the kind of shine that looked like it had been waxed by hand five minutes ago.

"Now these all come with the upgraded safety features, of course. We've got blind spot assist, lane keep, emergency braking, adaptive cruise—"

"Are they safe for children?" Mair asked, cutting in. Her voice was polite, even and clear, but Austin could hear the edge of nerves creeping in under it.

Jason nodded, hands clasped. "Yes ma'am. One of the safest luxury SUVs on the market. They have excellent crash test ratings, side-impact protection, and lots of room for a car seat. Actually, many of our clients get them because they're so family-friendly."

Mair nodded slowly. "Do the windows have the UV protection?"

"Yes," Jason said. "All these models do."

"And how easy is it to get the car seat in and out? The height seems like a lot."

Jason smiled and gestured to the matte silver one. "That one has an automatic lowering feature when the doors open. Makes it easier to load little ones in. Would you like to try it?"

Mair gave a small nod and moved a little closer, still looking at the SUV like it might suddenly rev its engine and lurch toward her. Austin was just watching, hands in his hoodie pockets, the corners of his mouth twitching as she kept rattling off questions.

"What's the fuel situation like? Is it a hybrid? Do they get stolen often?"

Jason fielded every one with ease. "Not a hybrid, but very secure with GPS tracking and anti-theft systems. Gas mileage is decent for its size, and there's always the electric option if that's more appealing though they do come at a higher price point."

Mair hummed, still visibly overwhelmed, and finally looked at Austin with a half-glare, half-panic. "It's huge."

He smiled gently, stepping forward to stand beside her. "I know. It is. But I figured if we're getting something, it might as well be something solid. Safe. Something that's gonna last."

She glanced at the side mirror, then back at the salesman. "I don't even know if I could park this."

"There's a 360-degree camera and assisted parking," Jason offered. "You'll get used to it quickly, I promise."

She gave a little nod, taking it all in, arms crossing again, her default defense. Austin could see it: the way her fingers curled against the sleeves, the way her weight shifted onto one foot. She was trying to keep her walls up, trying not to be charmed by the glinting, high-gloss appeal of the showroom or the low thrum of pride in his voice when he said my girls.

As Jason opened the driver-side door for Mair, she hesitated for only a moment before stepping up into the vehicle. The height of the G-Wagon made her feel small, but the minute she slid into the plush leather seat, she couldn't help but be impressed by how comfortable it was. The interior was immaculate, all dark wood accents, shiny screens, and a comforting smell of new car leather.

Austin watched her closely, standing outside the car as she adjusted the seat and fiddled with the controls. He could tell she was overwhelmed. Her brow furrowed slightly, her fingers pressing against the steering wheel, as if she was already making mental calculations about how to maneuver such a massive vehicle.

"This thing is huge," she muttered, shaking her head slightly.

Austin leaned against the hood of the car, grinning. "You've driven my truck before."

Mair shot him a sideways glance, her lips twitching into a smile. "Yeah, that didn't go well," she said, her tone dripping with dry humor as she remembered the disaster that was her first and only attempt to drive his massive pickup truck.

"But, oh well. This is totally different." Austin quickly remebering that she was right and shouldn't have brought that back up. He adds, "much smoother, and not as big", just for good measure. He chuckled, walking around to the other side of the car, leaning in to talk to her through the window. "You got this. Come on, just give it a try. This one's more—refined, more you."

She glanced at him, then at the car again. The initial apprehension in her expression softened into a reluctant curiosity. There was no denying it. She liked it. She liked the way everything looked so sleek and powerful. It was a big car, yes, but there was a comfort in it, an allure she couldn't quite shake.

Jason, having stepped aside, nodded and smiled. "So, do you want to take it for a test drive?"

Mair paused, then sighed, running a hand through her hair. She could feel Austin's gaze, steady and supportive, urging her. He was being patient, letting her come to the decision on her own.

"Well," she muttered, glancing back at him, "if I crash this thing into a mailbox, it's all on you."

Austin's grin only widened. "You'll be fine."

Mair took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. "Alright, fine. I'll give it a try."

Austin stood by the passenger side door as Mair carefully settled herself in preparation, her hands on the wheel, her eyes flicking over the dashboard. It felt strange, but in a way, it felt right too. She was going to drive this beast of a car.

Jason got into the backseat, and Austin hopped into the passenger seat.

"Take it slow at first," Jason advised, pulling his seatbelt on.

Mair raised an eyebrow.

Austin laughed from next to her. "Don't worry, you've got this. Just take your time."

As she pressed the gas lightly, the G-Wagon glided forward with ease. Mair blinked, surprised by how smooth the drive was, the suspension doing its job to make the enormous car feel effortless.

"See?" Austin's voice was light and teasing from outside the car. "Smooth, right?"

Mair rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the small smile tugging at her lips. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

She drove slowly out of the dealership lot, her eyes scanning the wide street ahead of them. It wasn't as intimidating as she'd thought it would be. The wheel felt sturdy beneath her fingers, and the car handled easily. She could feel the power of the car, but it wasn't overwhelming. It felt secure.

Jason's voice was calm from the front. "Nice and easy, take a right here, and then we can loop back."

Mair followed his instructions, still hesitant but growing more confident with every move. As she made the turn, she felt the G-Wagon respond smoothly, like an extension of her own body. It was big, yes, but not nearly as difficult to drive as she had expected.

Austin's voice came through the window, smooth and warm. "See? Told you. It's a good fit."

Mair didn't say anything at first. She was too focused on the road. The world outside seemed to fade away as she handled the wheel with more ease than she thought she would.

As they looped back toward the dealership, she finally looked over at Austin, a mix of amusement and disbelief in her eyes. "I think I might actually like it," she admitted reluctantly.

Austin's grin was wide, and there was something in his eyes that said he was glad to hear it. He'd been right all along. "Told you," he said again, his tone almost smug but not in a way that made her annoyed. It was just him, the way he always was when he was excited about something.

As Mair drove, Austin pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her with one hand, grinning as he looked at the screen.

"You look so hot driving this thing," he said, his voice low and full of admiration.

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm serious." He leaned over slightly, letting his fingers trace the curve of her thigh. "Something about you behind the wheel of a G-Wagon just does it for me."

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You need help."

Mair glanced down at the sleek black interior in front of her. "Honestly, I kind of love it. You should drive it," she said, glancing over at Austin. "You'll be driving us around more than I will."

Austin smirked, leaning back in his seat, his eyes twinkling. "You know, you'll always be my passenger princess," he teased, a playful tone in his voice.

Mair shot him a warning glance, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Don't make it weird," she said, shaking her head. "This is a big decision, and we have to make sure you like it too."

Austin just laughed, clearly amused by the way she still tried to stay in control of the situation, despite how much she clearly liked the car. He wasn't blind, he could see the way she was slowly warming to it. But he also understood her hesitation; it was a lot to take in. Austin opened the passenger door and stepped out of the car. He walked around to the driver's side, his hand extending out toward her with a gentle, almost teasing, smile on his face. "C'mon, princess. Let me take the wheel now."

Mair raised an eyebrow at him, but after a moment, she sighed and slid out of the driver's seat, letting him help her out. His hand was warm in hers, and for just a second, she felt something familiar—his steady presence, always there to back her up, no matter how much she argued against it.

"Fine," she muttered, watching him settle into the passenger seat.

Austin adjusted himself behind the wheel, getting comfortable before he turned to her with a satisfied grin. "This is great," he said, his voice full of enthusiasm. "It's got all the space we need, tons of room in the back for the baby, the car seats, and all her stuff. It's got the height, which means we can see over other cars on the road, and the safety features are top-notch. Plus, it's got a smooth ride, which is gonna be perfect for you and baby girl."

Austin drove them back to the dealership, the rumble of the G-Wagon's engine still fresh in the air. He glanced over at Mair, a teasing smile on his face. "Be honest, so do you like it?" he asked, his eyes glimmering with the hope that she'd admit what he already knew.

Mair turned to him, her arms crossed over her chest, her face a little flushed from the drive. She glanced out the window for a second, as if trying to hide the way she was softening toward the car, but eventually, she sighed and gave in. "Okay, yes, I like it," she admitted reluctantly, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and resignation.

Austin's smile grew wider. "Do you want it?"

She paused for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the seatbelt, as if the question made her nervous. But after a beat, she gave him a shy nod, her lips curling into a small, hesitant smile. "Yeah," she said softly, "I do."

"Done." Austin's voice was firm, like he'd already decided the car was theirs before she even answered. He turned to Jason, who had been quietly observing. "We're interested. Let's talk details."

Jason nodded with a friendly smile. "Great to hear," he said, glancing between Austin and Mair. "We can certainly make it work for you guys. Let's talk about the color options."

Austin leaned back in his seat, clearly excited now. "What about the color? We could do something custom, right?"

Mair thought for a moment, then shook her head lightly, already having made up her mind. "I liked the other one we saw," she said with a small smile. "I like the dark blue exterior with the brown leather seats." Her voice was more certain now, her preference clear in her tone. There was something about the combination that felt elegant and had a perfect mix of practicality and luxury.

Austin looked at her, the warmth in his eyes undeniable. "Dark blue with brown leather? Got it. I think it suits you."

Mair rolled her eyes playfully. "I think it suits us," she corrected him, her tone light, despite how much she was starting to warm to the entire situation.

Jason nodded in agreement, noting it down. "Excellent choice. It's a stunning combo, and we can have it prepped and ready for you guys." He smiled at Austin. "I'll get everything started on my end."

Mair sank into the plush leather of the passenger seat, her fingers lightly grazing the smooth surface of the armrest. The hum of the engine beneath her felt foreign in a way, like it was signaling a shift that things were changing. Her eyes flicked over the interior again, taking in the moon roof, the leather seats, and the sleek design of the dashboard. It was hers, and yet it didn't feel real yet.

Austin glanced over at her as they cruised down the road in their new car, his hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel. He looked content, more at ease than she'd seen him in a while. The kind of relaxed energy that came with getting what he wanted and making her happy, even when she didn't quite want to admit it.

Mair took a deep breath and looked out the window, feeling her shoulders tense. After a moment, she finally broke the silence, her voice softer than she intended. "Sorry that I was a bitch this morning."

Austin chuckled softly, his gaze flicking over to her for just a second. "Don't be," he said, the smile still in his voice. "You weren't. I knew I was pushing your buttons. But I know you, Mair. You feel bad about spending money, especially on something like this."

Mair winced, looking out at the passing scenery, but she couldn't deny he was right. "I just—I don't want to go overboard. I mean, we're about to have a baby. It feels crazy to just, you know, splurge."

Austin's voice softened, a touch of affection in the way he said it. "I get it. But I also know you've mentioned wanting this car before. And I wanted to get it for our family."

She looked over at him, a little surprised at the sincerity in his words. Austin wasn't one to get overly sentimental, but when it came to her and the baby, there was something deeper, more grounded, in his actions. It wasn't just about the car, it was about providing for them, showing that he was here and he was serious.

She shifted slightly in her seat, feeling a bit more at ease now. "I know you wanted to do this," she said, the words slipping out before she could second guess them. "It's just overwhelming. Like everything's moving so fast."

Austin's eyes softened as he glanced over at her again, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I think you'll be relieved now," he said, his voice a little lighter. "Once the baby's born, we won't have to rely on my mom's car or your parents' anymore. We'll be able to drive ourselves places, have our own space. Plus, he paused, glancing over at her with a playful grin. "This is a cool fucking car, Mair. I'm glad we got it."

She chuckled, the tension in her body easing. "Yeah, it is." Her eyes lingered on the luxury features again, still taking it all in.

Austin glanced at her, a little mischievous glint in his eyes. "This screams 'LA MILF,'" he teased, the words rolling off his tongue with a certain confidence.

Mair couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her. She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile spreading across her face. "You're ridiculous," she said, her tone amused, even though a little heat spread to her cheeks.

Austin just shrugged with a grin. "It's true. I mean, you're carrying our kid and now you've got this badass ride to go with it. What's not to love?"

She shook her head at him, but the humor softened her expression. "You really are impossible."

"Impossible to resist and impossibly charming," he shot back with a wink.

Her smile lingered, but she let out a long sigh, a soft, contented sound as she leaned back in the seat. The tension from earlier, from the back-and-forth about the car, seemed to melt away in the warmth of the moment.

As they drove towards Mair's parent's home, a small part of Mair allowed herself to appreciate how far they'd come. This car wasn't just about the money. It wasn't about grand gestures or proving anything. It was about building a future, step by step, together—no matter how overwhelming or uncertain it sometimes felt.

Mair and Austin had been back in Chicago for a few weeks now. The nursery was finally coming together. It had been her brother's bedroom once. At first, Mair hadn't even wanted to touch it. She said it wasn't worth changing the paint since she didn't know how long she'd be here and didn't know what the plan was. But her mom had insisted, and now, Mair was secretly glad for it. The soft green walls, the pale wood furniture, the soft rug with little stars across it, this was the baby's room now. It felt like a room where someone small and important would be loved. And soon it would be.

The room had taken on that particular smell that only came with fresh paint—clean, chemical, and oddly comforting. The glow of early evening shined across the crib and the half-assembled changing table still in pieces on the tarp making the room look idealistic. Mair had been at it for hours, balancing her weight from one foot to the other, methodically edging along the baseboards with a brush in hand.

Austin had been sleeping on the floor of her bedroom on and off throughout her pregnancy but it's become an every night occurrence since they got back from Texas. She let him sleep in the same bed while they were staying with his dad, but she needed the boundary again because its way too difficult to sort out her feeling with him snuggled up to her every night.

Luckily, Austin didn't put her in the position to have to say something. He knew and didn't ever complain or try to convince her to let him keep her warm at night. She didn't even bother telling him to just sleep on the couch downstairs anymore because his answer was always no.

Every night, after she'd settle into bed with their dog, he would pull a blanket and pillow from the closet and stretch out on the floor beside her, a quiet presence in the room. The closeness was coming back, sure, but slowly.

She's excited for the baby and she knows Austin is too. But it was hard to think about bringing a baby into this situation. She's living in her parents' house, with Austin on the floor of her room, their relationship still hanging in the balance. They were supposed to be in Utah, in their home, the place they had planned to raise their family. She couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't supposed to be like this. That they were supposed to be together, as a family, in their own space, where everything felt secure. But instead, they were here in Chicago, with all of her old memories surrounding her and Austin sleeping on the floor, not even in her bed.

She mourned the memory of how things used to be.

"Hey, what's going on in that head of yours?" Austin's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Mair blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. She shrugged and gave him a weak smile. "Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "Just can't believe we're so close to the baby's due date."

Austin didn't look entirely convinced, but he let it go for now. "I know," he said, voice soft. "It's pretty crazy, right".

She sheepishly nods.

Austin watched her from where he knelt, sorting screws for the dresser they'd been meaning to finish for weeks. "Alright, time out," he said, standing up and walking over. "You've been on your feet all day. Sit down, Mair. I got this."

"I'm okay," she murmured, still focused on the trim.

He gently took the brush from her hand. "Come on. Just for a bit."

She didn't press it further. Her feet were sore, back tight, belly heavy. She made her way over to the rocking chair near the window and sank into it with a sigh, one hand instinctively resting against the side of her bump.

Austin went back to the wall, dipping the roller and immediately going at it with wide, chaotic swipes. No rhythm. No plan. Just paint flying in every direction like it was a Jackson Pollock.

She squinted. "Okay, your painting is stressing me out."

He turned, blinking at her. "What?"

"You're doing it like...like you're swatting a bee or something."

He looked at the wall, then back at her. "Damn. That bad?"

She nodded slowly.

"Alright, alright." He raised his hands in mock surrender, then started again. He was slower this time, smooth, even strokes up and down, careful to avoid the molding.

He didn't say anything about it out loud, but he knew she liked it this way. She liked things to have order. Symmetry. Structure. He remembered the way she used to straighten the picture frames in their old hallway every time she passed them, or the way she arranged books by height and color even when they had somewhere to be. He didn't think it was weird. He liked that she liked the world a certain way. Especially now, when everything felt unpredictable, he could see how much comfort she took in making this room feel right.

"I like when you boss me around," he said instead, glancing at her over his shoulder.

She just rolled her eyes, reaching for her phone on the table next to her. A few taps on her phone and then the sound of soft acoustics filled the room. The first lines of "Dial Drunk" drifted around like a nice breeze.

Austin paused mid-roll. "Who's this?"

"Noah Kahan," she said, already swaying gently in the rocker. "He's really good. You guys have weirdly similar vibes."

Austin raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know," she said, gesturing vaguely at him. "Long brown hair. Beards. Emotional."

He let out a snort. "So we're beardy and depressed?"

She smiled. "Pretty much."

Austin let out a short laugh. "Damn, Mairead. I always wondered why you went for a guy like me. Now I know. You've got quite the type."

She gave him a look. "Stop. I've just been listening to his album a lot lately."

"More than mine."

Her head tilted. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying. You don't bump my albums while you paint."

"Oh my god. Just keep painting."

"Yes, Ma'am", he grinned, rolling another even line of soft sage paint up the wall.

Austin nodded along, actually listening. It was stripped down and honest, and he could hear why she liked it. It probably felt good in her chest right now with everything feeling like it was shifting under her feet. He liked that she let music hold her like that when she couldn't always find the words.

Soon after, he could tell she was getting antsy, and he noticed her hand subtly rubbing her stomach. He'd learned the signs by now—she was hungry, which had become something of a regular occurrence lately with all her weird cravings.

He paused, rolling his paintbrush across the wall, glancing over at her. "You good?"as Mair shifted in the rocking chair, her back arching slightly as she let out a sigh. "I'm starving."

He smiled, leaning against the wall as he wiped his hands on the rag. "What do you want?"

She looked at him with a mischievous grin, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Pickles and chocolate ice cream."

Austin blinked, a bit taken aback. "Are you sure? You don't even like pickles—and you don't even like chocolate ice cream either." He gave her a pointed look, wondering if she was pulling his leg.

Mair shrugged nonchalantly. "I know, but that's what I want."

Austin's brow furrowed as he took a step closer, still incredulous. "Do you have any in the fridge?"

Mair's eyes darted to the side, and she sheepishly shook her head. "No..."

Austin raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, because you don't like those things."

She laughed lightly, but the hunger in her voice was evident. "Austin, I'm so pregnant with your daughter and hungry." She put extra emphasis on her words, her tone shifting into one of mock seriousness.

That was enough to shut him up. He could never argue with that. He exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a grin. "Okay, okay. I'll run to the store." He shook his head, grabbing his keys from the counter. "Just don't eat anything else weird while I'm gone, okay?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, amused. "I'll try my best."

Austin had dashed out to the store as quickly as possible, not wanting to face the wrath of a pregnant Mair, who had been pretty vocal about her cravings lately. He'd grabbed the ice cream, pickles, and a few other odds and ends, thinking maybe he could make her smile with the offering. As he came back to the house and up the stairs, he could already tell by the look on her face that she didn't want any part of it.

He set the ice cream and pickles down next to her, watching her face twist for a split second before she tried to hide it behind a half-hearted smile. Yeah. No shit. She didn't actually like these flavors, but there was something in her expression, something he recognized. She didn't want to ask for something else. She didn't want to sound like a bitch.

Austin let out a heavy sigh and folded his arms. "Mair, what do you want? Because I know it's not this."

Her smile faltered, and she sheepishly looked down at the ice cream. "I'm sorry, Austin," she murmured. "I was craving it earlier, but—not now."

He softened, kneeling down in front of her, placing a hand on her knee. "It's fine, baby," he reassured her, wanting to be patient. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll go get it."

Her face lit up at the reassurance. "Apples and peanut butter," she said, her voice tinged with a sweet kind of relief.

Austin nodded and started to get up, but she stopped him, looking at him with a thoughtful expression. "Oh, and chocolate chip cookies," she added. "My dad made some yesterday, they're in the kitchen."

He sighed again but smiled at her. "Okay, hold on a minute." He left for the stairs, muttering under his breath about how she was going to make him get every snack in the house.

"Oh, and your mom's lemon bars", she calls out just as Austin reached the stairs.

When Austin returned, he was carrying a plate piled high with the apples and peanut butter, a small stack of warm chocolate chip cookies, lemon bars, and string cheese that he found. And a chilled key lime LaCroix, her favorite. As he set everything down in front of her, he noticed her eyes flicker with relief. Her shoulders seemed to relax, and for a moment, she looked like she could cry.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice thick with gratitude. She picked up an apple slice and dipped it into the peanut butter, savoring the bite. "You're the best baby daddy."

Austin sat down next to her, folding his legs beneath him as he sat on the floor of the nursery. He didn't say anything at first, just letting the silence stretch between them. It felt different now, this moment. It was less about the chaos of everything swirling around them, and more about the simple peace of being there, together, in their baby's room.

So, I've gotta head to Utah next week," Austin said, breaking the silence. "Gotta get the promo photos done for the Cane's restaurant. I've been putting it off for too long."

Mair nodded, her mouth full. She already knew about the trip, it wasn't new information, but it still made her feel a little uneasy. "Yeah, I know. It's just—I hate that I have a doctor's appointment while you're gone. It's not my last one or anything, but it still sucks."

Austin's face immediately softened. He hated the thought of leaving her to go through that alone, especially with the baby getting closer. "I feel like an asshole for not being there. I don't want to miss it."

"I get it," she said, her voice a little softer now. "You've been putting it off forever. And honestly, I'd rather you get it done before she gets here. I'll be fine."

"I know," he replied quietly. "But I still feel bad about it."

She smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll send you the ultrasound photos. It's not the end of the world."

Austin nodded, but the concern still clouded his expression. "Okay, but are you gonna be able to get there okay? Like, can your dad drive you, or—?"

Mair hesitated for a moment before answering. "He's trying to rearrange his schedule so he can take me. But if he can't, I'll figure something out. I'll take the train or something."

Austin looked at her like she'd just suggested something absurd. "Mair, hell no. The Metra? You're almost eight months pregnant. Please, I really don't want you doing that alone."

She rolled her eyes, still stubborn as ever. "It's not that bad. The Metra's fine."

"No, it's not fine," he insisted, shaking his head. "Why is that your only option? I'll get my driver to take you."

"Honestly, Austin, that's not necessary," Mair said, her tone more playful than serious, but still firm.

Austin rubbed the back of his neck, frustration mixing with his concern. "You know—we should just get a car. We keep having to use our parents' cars, and you're way too stubborn for your own good."

Mair narrowed her eyes. "It's just mean to insult a pregnant girl."

"I'm not insulting you," he said with a smirk. "I just want you to be safe. And you're so stubborn, you won't let anyone help you."

She sighed, crossing her arms. "We have cars".

"In Utah", Austin raised an eyebrow pointedly. "I'm not bringing one here. So, we'll just get a new one. Especially with the baby on the way. We need one."

Mair stared at him incredulously. "Do you know how crazy you sound right now? Just 'go get a new car'?"

Austin grinned, leaning in slightly. "Mair, I'm not sure if you know this, but I make decent money. We can get a car. It'll be the easiest thing for everyone."

Mair huffed, knowing full well he was right. It killed her to admit it, but she wasn't going to keep arguing. "Fine. But just something simple and safe. We don't need anything extravagant."

Austin leaned back against the wall, his grin widening. "You got it. Something simple. Safe. And maybe a little fancy. But mostly simple."

"You sure you're okay with coming?" he asked her quietly, leaning over the back of the couch where she was sitting with a throw blanket over her legs.

Mair looked up from her tea, brows raised. "Austin."

"What?"

"That's the third time you've asked in like ten minutes."

"I just wanna make sure—"

"I'm fine with it. I want to come. Stop asking or I'm gonna get annoyed." She narrowed her eyes, but there wasn't a drop of bite in her voice. If anything, there was a softness to her teasing, a light flicker of the way they used to bicker before everything got heavy.

He grinned, a little sheepish. "Okay. I'll stop."

"Thank you."

And he had,well, mostly. He still watched her like a hawk when they got ready to leave, still helped her down the stairs and into the car like she was made of glass. But Mair let him. It wasn't smothering, not today. Today, it felt like genuine care.

When they first arrived at the stadium, it was a bit of a whirlwind. Security waved them through a back entrance, then guided them toward a private elevator that would take them up to the suite level. The halls were wide and echoey, filled with the sound of distant cheering and muffled music. Austin walked a few steps ahead, his long strides slowed by the number of people stopping him.

"Posty!" someone called out. "Man, can we get a picture?"

He turned with that familiar grin, already reaching for the fan's phone. "Yeah, of course, bro," he said, pulling them in for a quick photo.

Mair hung back with his stepmom, her eyes mostly on the floor as they walked. The Cowboys hoodie she wore was his and big enough to nearly hit her mid-thigh. It felt like armor, soft and familiar. She was just trying to get up to the suite. Her ankles were sore, her back ached, and the volume of the stadium, even from the inside, felt like it was pressing against her ribs.

His stepmom stayed close, walking beside her in quiet solidarity, not saying much but clearly there just in case. Every now and then she'd reach a hand behind Mair's back in a subtle gesture of support, and Mair appreciated it more than she could say.

She glanced up and caught sight of Austin again—smiling, signing something, slapping hands with someone wearing a Cowboys jersey. He looked completely in his element, all easy charm and kindness.

And even though she felt tired and a little overstimulated, her chest swelled with something warm.

This was who he was. Why people loved him. Why fans stayed outside venues for hours and cried when they met him. He never brushed anyone off. Always took time, even when he didn't have to. Even now, when he should've been focused on his own nerves, on his halftime performance, he was stopping for selfies and hugs.

She loved that about him. She always had. Still, she stayed a few steps behind, letting him soak in the spotlight while she quietly made her way toward the elevator, the hum of excitement settling gently around her.

The stadium buzzed with anticipation, the kind of electric atmosphere that made Mair's skin hum even from behind the glass of their private suite. It was loud from roaring fans, the boom of the announcer's voice, along flashes of blue and silver everywhere. But being in the suite helped. It felt a little tucked away, like they were watching from a bubble.

She was nestled into one of the cushioned seats near the front, wrapping herself in his hoodie, swallowing her hands. His cologne still clung faintly to the fabric. She'd pulled the hood up when they first got there, just to ease the feeling of so many people in one place, but now it rested loosely against her shoulders.

Austin hadn't left her side since they arrived. He kept glancing over, brushing his knuckles against her thigh or resting his hand on her back whenever he sat beside her.

"You good?" he asked under his breath for maybe the fourth time since they got there.

Mair looked at him with a small, amused smile. "I'm good."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "I want to be here. I mean it."

And she did. They were both a little surprised by how firmly she'd insisted on coming—how much she wanted to see him perform again, even though it meant crowds and cameras and public attention. But she had missed it. Missed him like this, alive on stage and electric in a way no one else was.

"I've really missed watching you," she said quietly, and something in his expression softened so completely she had to look away for a second.

His parents and brother were chatting with a couple of the suite attendants, grabbing drinks and snacks. His stepmom returned with a bottle of water and passed it to Mair with a warm smile.

"Make sure you're drinking," she said gently, as if she'd said it three times already today.

"I am," Mair promised, taking a sip. "Thank you."

His stepmom squeezed her shoulder before returning to the others.

When the second quarter neared its end, Austin's manager gave a signal through the glass.

Austin stood, stretching, then knelt beside Mair's chair. He rested one hand gently on her belly and the other over hers.

"You okay?" he asked one last time.

She smiled. "Go do your thing."

"I'll come back up the second I'm done."

She nodded. "I know."

He rests his hand on her belly for a second and tells her bump "daddy is going to perform now, baby girl".

He hesitated, just for a second, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to memorize it before heading out.

Mair watched him leave, her heart thrumming, not out of nerves, but excitement. Her fingertips found the edge of the hoodie sleeve, pulling it tighter around herself.

Out there, the crowd cheered for their team. But in here, all she could think about was the man she loved stepping into the lights again, how proud she still was, and how much she still believed in him.

From her spot in the suite, Mair watched Austin pace the stage at the 50-yard line, his silhouette cast in the massive glow of the stadium lights. The bass pulsed through the floor beneath her feet, but all she could focus on was him, how easy he made it look and how the crowd ate up every word.

Her hand was resting on the curve of her stomach as his family buzzing around her, she felt something settle in her chest. Familiar and soft.

Then came a song she knew too well. One he'd performed hundreds of times, one she'd heard before it was even finished. She mouthed along with the verses, barely aware she was doing it until one line caught her off guard, he sang, smooth and offhand like it had always been there:

"Still the prettiest girl in the room tonight."

Her breath hitched. It was so small. So quick. But it was hers. He used to say that to her late at night in hotel rooms, after college parties, when she was tired and swore she looked like a disaster. He'd say it with that lazy smile, like it was the easiest truth in the world.

She laughed before she could stop herself. A soft, involuntary sound. His dad turned toward her, brows raised in question.

"What's so funny?" his stepmom asked gently from the other side of the suite.

"Nothing," Mair murmured, still smiling to herself. "He just—he's being dumb."

His parents nodded, unsure, already turning their attention back to the field. But Mair stayed quiet, warmth blooming beneath her collarbone.

As the song ended, he glanced up at the suite just briefly. No long stare. No acknowledgment. But she saw the flicker of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Like he knew she'd caught it. Like he hoped she would.

She pressed her palm against her belly where the baby had just kicked and whispered to no one in particular, "Show off."

The crowd was still cheering, his name echoing through the stadium, but up here, in the quiet of the suite, it felt like the world had slowed down for just a second.

Mair leaned back slightly in her seat, still smiling, still flushed with that private kind of affection—the kind that lived in shared memories and soft rewrites of old lyrics.

She glanced down, rubbed slow circles over her hoodie, and whispered just under her breath, "Your daddy is crazy, you know that?"

The baby kicked again, like she knew.

Mair laughed softly, then shook her head. "But in the best way."

Across the suite, his parents were still cheering, his brother filming parts of the performance on his phone. No one had heard her, no one had to. It wasn't for them. It was just her and the little girl she already loved more than anything. And the man on the field who had just made the biggest stadium in Texas feel like it was built just for them.

He came back a little while later, still damp with sweat, his curls pushed back messily, face flushed with adrenaline. That post-show high clung to him like static electricity: buzzing, warm, and impossible to ignore. His dad clapped him hard on the back, grinning like a kid himself, telling him it was one hell of a performance.

But Austin's eyes were already scanning the suite until they landed on her.

Mair raised her eyebrows at him with a faint smirk. "You're so annoying," she said, voice dry but affectionate.

He grinned, toothy and unbothered. "I thought you'd catch that."

"I did," she said. "So did the baby. She was kicking like crazy. She knows her daddy's voice."

That softened him in an instant. He walked over and kneeled in front of her seat, sweaty and all, not caring for a second. He pressed his hand against her belly with such familiarity now, like it was instinct. He bent down in front of her, his curls sticking to his forehead, and gently placed his hand on her belly. His voice dropped to a soft whisper, low enough that only Mair could hear.

"Did you like the performance, baby girl?" he murmured, the words laced with so much warmth, so much love. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her belly, as if he could already feel the little one responding.

Mair's heart swelled at the sight, her hand unconsciously finding its way to rest on his back, fingers running lightly over the damp fabric of his shirt. There was a softness in the way he spoke to their daughter that made everything else fade away.

As she moved to sit back down, he followed, his eyes never leaving her. He plopped down beside her, and without even thinking, she looped her arms around his. It wasn't anything too dramatic, just a simple, quiet gesture, but it made him smile over how soft and genuine it was. He had the kind of smile on his face that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, they were finding their way back to each other in small, unspoken ways.

"You sounded great," she said, her voice warm and light.

"Thanks, baby," he replied, the edge of his smile turning into a grin.

She didn't fight him on it. She could've teased him, or pulled back, but for a moment, she just let it go. And in that instant, he felt like he'd won a small battle—a silent, tiny victory. He smirked, pleased by the peace in her words.

"How does it feel?" she asked, her voice soft, like she was genuinely curious.

He glanced at her, his eyes softening. There was something in the air between them, a sense of quiet understanding that hadn't been there in so long. His hand brushed against hers, and he gave it a gentle squeeze before he looked back out toward the field, his gaze distant, as if reliving the moment.

"It feels extra special," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "This is our girl's first concert."

A tiny laugh bubbled up from her chest, and she nestled closer into his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

Austin's grin stretched wide as he teased, his voice filled with pure amusement. "I think we've got a little groupie in the making," he said, his eyes dancing with laughter as he glanced at her belly.

Mair's face immediately scrunched up in mock disapproval. "Do not call her that," she warned, though her tone held no real bite.

Austin leaned in, his laughter bubbling up. "What? Just like her mama," he teased, clearly not ready to let it go.

Mair rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "Or me," she shot back, her voice playful despite her exasperation.

He couldn't contain his laughter anymore, his chest shaking with it. "Okay, okay, you got me," he said, still chuckling. He bent down and kissed her forehead, a soft, affectionate gesture that only made her sigh, a little resigned to his endless teasing.

Mair didn't even try to pull away this time. She just looked up at him, exasperated but undeniably amused, her fingers still gently gripping his arm. "You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head, but her smile said everything.

As the fans in the suite started to notice Austin, whispers spread like wildfire, and soon enough, waves and excited calls came from all around. Austin's smile widened as he caught sight of some familiar faces, raising his hand and waving back. It was second nature to him. His fans had always been there, cheering him on, and he always made sure to show them the same love.

But next to him, Mair felt a little more self-conscious. She still had her arm looped through his, but now, she tucked her head against his shoulder, almost as if trying to hide from the attention. The waves from the crowd felt a little too much for her, and she couldn't help but feel like she was caught in the spotlight too, though she knew it was only because of Austin.

His arm instinctively tightened around her, a silent promise that he was there, that she was safe in that moment. She smiled softly against his shoulder, the weight of the day settling in her bones. This felt different than that night at the convenience store, where she'd felt exposed, alone, and uncertain.

Now, with Austin next to her, she felt a steadiness she hadn't realized she was craving. He wasn't just holding her physically, he was reassuring her, and making sure she knew she wasn't alone. It was something unspoken, something deeper than words.

"Don't worry about them," Austin said, his voice low enough for only her to hear, though he was still waving at the crowd. "We're good here."

Mair gave a small, grateful sigh and nodded against his shoulder, the simple gesture of him being there making her feel so much safer. The chaos of the crowd didn't seem nearly as overwhelming when she had him by her side. He was always constant in her world , a steady presence she could always rely on. And for once, that made everything feel a little easier, a little calmer.

She pulled away slightly to look up at him, her heart swelling in quiet affection. "I'm okay," she murmured, and for the first time, she actually felt like she was.

The rest of the night, the internet exploded. Austin's halftime show had the usual buzz, but it was nothing compared to the attention on Mair. The speculation that had been simmering for months finally boiled over and fans had proof now. She was there, she was pregnant, and she was with him.

Photos and clips were everywhere. Fan cams, zoomed-in screenshots from the broadcast, people sharing personal run-ins at the stadium. The @mairposts fan account nearly broke trying to keep up.

   @mairposts

Posted a photo of the pair on instagram stories with huge text on the screen: She came to the Cowboys game. They came together. She's pregnant. It's happening. They're back.

The account posted a few onto the actual grid too.

Photo 1: Austin with his hand gently on Mair's lower back as they exited the suite, his head slightly turned like he was saying something to her. Caption:

he always guides her like that. i can't. i'm unwell.

Photo 2: Mair beaming while watching him perform, one hand on her belly, her hair falling softly over her shoulder. Caption:

she's so proud of him. look at her face.

Photo 3: The two of them seated side by side after the show, her arms looped through his, his forehead resting against hers. Caption:

they didn't have to say anything. it's all in how they are.

Photo 4: Him waving to fans below, and her tucking her face shyly into his shoulder. Caption:

this should be in a museum. she's so shy and he's just soaking up the love like always.

Photo 5: The infamous forehead kiss. Her face unreadable, but her arm stayed looped around his. Caption:

whoever said they weren't close anymore. you were wrong.

And then, of course, the comments started flooding in.

    @softpost:

i've never seen her look happier. she looks so safe.

    @mairh8club

y'all forgot he CHEATED or??

    @rosebabe88:

she deserves better. just sayin

    @sunnymairfan:

okay but you don't know their situation. maybe this is what healing looks like??

    @user928291:

the fact that she still wears his hoodie says everything.

    @baddiebowen:

being at the game doesn't mean they're back together. she's having his kid. maybe she's just being civil.

    @lovemaireveryday:

nah you can't fake that forehead kiss. sorry. she's in love.

    @Cowboyluvr:

y'all acting like this man isn't a literal walking red flag.

    @boots&babies:

idc what y'all say, i love them. it's giving soulmates.

Tiktok was also in a blaze. One creator posted a video recounting the night.

@cowgirlcourtney

"Y'ALL. I was at the Cowboys game today and guess who I saw in the suite across from ours!"

The video starts shaky and filmed from across the stadium in a suite, but the excitement in her voice carries it. The camera zooms in on Austin, instantly recognizable in his custom jersey, then pans over to Mair, sitting beside him in an oversized Cowboys hoodie with her hand resting on her belly.

The creator comes into view. "Okay, okay, listen. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, but they were 100% together and looking intimate. Like. She had her arm looped through his, he kissed her forehead at one point, and I SWEAR he had his hand on her baby bump when they were talking. She's definitely pregnant, and he was so attentive to her the entire time. I've never seen someone so soft with their girl before. Y'all! POST MALONE IS GONNA BE A DAD!!"

She adds a clip of her zooming in where you can vaguely see the couple close together, laughing, and what might be his hand brushing her stomach. You can hear her squealing in the background.

The video ends with "congrats to them honestly. She's so pretty too. It makes sense."

Caption:

The rumors are TRUE. Mair is pregnant and they are so cute together I'm crying. Posty's gonna be a dad y'all!!! #postmalone #cowboysgame #mair #celebcouple #babyonboard

The comments were coming in fast and non stop.

    @blondevibez:

she's a baddie for having post malone as her baby daddy fr

    @mysterylover22:

the way he looks at her??? idc what happened before they're cute af

    @literallylea:

austin having his hand on her belly is melting my cold heart

    @girlbye92:

she's glowing and unbothered. good for her

    @theteaisspilled:

they better name the baby Cowboy

    @postywife420:

this just made my day but also i'm sick

    @itsthekarmaforme:

lmao I remember y'all dragging her a few months ago. look at you now

    @truthhurts88:

idk why y'all are acting like he didn't cheat...

    @softmairposts:

they looked so happy. she deserves it

    @bootsandbling:

she's got the hoodie, the baby, and the man. mair won the game actually

    @mairangelz:

she was rubbing her belly when he went on stage and smiling so big. she's literally glowing. this. is. her. era.

    @cowboys4ever:

bro I saw them too she was walking behind him into the suite and looked sooo pregnant. he kept turning around to check on her

    @girlnamedhoney:

the way she buried her face into his shoulder when fans noticed them?? I'd literally never recover

    @barbzzzzonice:

ok but I thought they broke up?? why are y'all acting like nothing happened.

    @yeehawposty:

he has been never this soft with anyone else don't lie

    @user2987281:

y'all only love her now that she's pregnant lmao the hypocrisy

    @softpostszn:

I hope they're happy and healing. let people grow pls

    @jerseymade:

idk she looked miserable when fans saw them tho? I wouldn't say "happy" exactly

    @mairpostsdaily:

she's not miserable she's private and literally pregnant??? like be serious

    @sadiesundays:

the forehead kiss, the hand on her back, the arm link?? if he wasn't famous y'all would be screaming couple goals

    @cursedforyou:

okay but now I NEED a pic of the baby in a cowboys onesie

    @lowkeyloyalty:

you can tell they've been through it but they're solid. good for them

    @toughcrowd:

why does everyone forget he literally cheated???

    @defensiveinheels:

and why do y'all act like people can't mess up and still grow up? he clearly is showing up for her now. let her decide what she wants

    @moodyinblue:

someone said mair is the blueprint and they were right

    @glossyrodeo:

the hoodie, the baby bump, the concert glow? she's living my dream

    @delulu4posty:

real question tho. did he sing to her from the stage or am I crazy??

    @courtneysawitfirst (creator):

he 100% changed the lyrics. I'm telling you!!! I screamed

    @mairangelz:

I don't care what anyone says she's always been that girl. Austin's just catching up.

    @rider96:

ok but am I the only one who remembers when she left him??? why is everyone pretending that didn't happen

    @icedmatcha:

girl she left because he cheated??? you think she was supposed to throw him a party?? be serious

    @moodycowgirl:

maybe don't have a baby with someone who cheated on you idk seems like common sense

    @mairpostsupdates:

the baby was conceived before they broke up. do your homework before commenting dumb stuff

    @deluxepostyfan:

she was literally GLOWING and did y'all peep her in the hoodie?? that was HIS hoodie from like 2019 I swear

    @texasgirlinvintage:

no one ever talks about how stressful it must be for her to be in public like this. she's clearly overwhelmed and y'all still nitpick

    @nickiforpresident:

overwhelmed?? she looked like she was loving the attention lmao let's not act like she's shy

    @icedtea:

that girl has never chased the spotlight a day in her life lmao let her link arms with her baby daddy in peace

    @justpeachesnow:

I literally cried when he kissed her forehead. like??? he loves that girl

    @deadendcowboy:

he kissed her forehead once and y'all are acting like he's dad of the year

   @hotcocoaanddrama:

he's out here putting his hand on her BACK and checking on her every five seconds. he's trying.

    @tori2:

ok but she looked like she wanted to disappear when fans spotted them. poor thing.

    @spicyranch44:

I think she was just shy. did you not see the way she smiled when he sang? she was proud.

    @cowboykisses:

THE WAY he whispered to her bump after the show. I will never recover

    @mairslawyer:

if you've ever had someone cheat on you, you'd know healing is not linear. don't judge her for showing up and letting him in again.

    @user947382:

yeah but like it's giving "stuck because of the baby" energy sorry

    @junebugjournal:

or maybe it's giving "rebuilding trust slowly" energy. not everyone's bitter

    @kelseeethereal:

I don't even care. they're both fine as hell and I'm here for the drama and the baby content

    @chaoticneutralbby:

I feel like that baby's gonna have the coolest life and best wardrobe

    @postyfever:

Mair if you're reading this I volunteer to babysit ANY TIME

@postysgirlies:

They looked SO good together. The way he kept checking on her? That's love right there.

    @sugarspice:

Mair is glowing. Like she looks so happy and calm and safe with him. My heart!!

    @texastwinkletoes:

Her in the Cowboys hoodie??? Peak WAG energy. She's the coolest lowkey queen ever.

    @babymalonefanpage:

I hope their baby sees these photos someday and knows how loved they were

    @softboyeraaustin:

That man is SMITTEN. The way he talks to her belly?? The gentleness?? I can't.

    @glowymair:

This is the first time we've seen them together in so long and it just feels right. They belong next to each other.

    @austinandmair4ever:

He's in his dad era and she's just effortlessly beautiful. They look like a family already.

    @waterbottledefender:

I don't care what the haters say. She's handling everything with so much grace. She's real and grounded and that's why I love her.

    @cowboycutie123:

The forehead kiss?? The arm holding?? THE MATCHING ENERGY?? Obsessed.

    @goldenhourbaby:

This was so sweet to see. You can tell how much he wants to be there for her and the baby.

    @southernstarsfan:

That's her man and she's gonna stick beside him. Honestly proud of her for choosing peace and privacy.

    @concertlovr:

Their child's first concert being dad at a Cowboys game is ICONIC behavior.

    @postbabydreamin:

I know we're all rooting for them, but seriously? This felt special. Like, "we're getting through it together" kind of special.

The internet was fighting on every platform: TikTok, Reddit, Twitter, and Instagram. No one knew 100% what this meant. Were they together? Just trying to co-parent? Still figuring it out?

Meanwhile, Austin sat at the edge of the bed in his old room, the lights low and the noise of the house muted now that everyone had gone to bed. Mair was stretched out behind him, one hand resting on her belly, the other loosely tangled in the sheets. Her ankles were propped on his lap, and he rubbed slow circles into the swollen arches of her feet like it was second nature.

He glanced at his phone screen, thumb lazily scrolling, and paused when he saw his own face staring back at him. A familiar photo of him waving and Mair curled into his side with her head tucked into his shoulder.

PEOPLE Magazine: Post Malone Spotted at Cowboys Game with Rumored Pregnant Girlfriend—Fans Catch Sweet Moments Between the Two

Post Malone returned to his home state of Texas to perform at the Cowboys halftime show this weekend, but fans couldn't stop buzzing about who was in the suite with him. Girlfriend Mairead Callahan, who has been out of the spotlight in recent months, was seen by his side sporting a baby bump and a quiet, content glow...

Page Six: Post Malone Goes Public with Pregnant Girlfriend at Cowboys Game

From holding hands to forehead kisses, the pair looked intimate and relaxed despite the high-profile setting. Fans speculate this may be the couple's soft return to the public eye after months of speculation...

TMZ: Is That a Baby Bump? Post Malone's Girlfriend Steps Out for Cowboys Game

Posty's performance wasn't the only thing getting attention tonight. Social media blew up after fans captured photos and videos of him and long term girlfriend sharing tender moments and yes, it looks like there's a baby on the way.

He felt his chest tighten with something he couldn't name. Not fear, but something heavy. He glanced back at her. She's still sleepy, still letting him take care of her like this, and still here.

"We're in People," he said quietly, as he tapped the photo of her hiding into his shoulder.

Mair opened her eyes just slightly. "Hmm?"

"They said you looked 'quietly glowing.'" He wiggled her toes, amused. "TMZ says we 'shared tender moments.'"

She huffed softly. "Gross."

Austin laughed and leaned over, placing her foot gently back onto the bed. He kissed her ankle before settling down beside her. "Guess we're soft-launching again," he muttered.

Mair's voice had taken on a different quality tonight. She was calmer and more resolute. She sat up a little more, still tucked against the edge of the bed, her legs curled under her. She was deep in thought, but the soft smile that lingered on her lips showed there was no malice in her words, just an unburdened clarity.

"I know it sounds dumb," she said after a long pause, her eyes darting to the floor before meeting his. "After just the other day, being worried about leaving the house to run errands with your stepmom, but now that it's over with..." She trailed off, her fingers playing absently with the blanket.

Austin gave her an encouraging look, prompting her to continue.

"I don't know," she said, her voice soft, but steady. "I think I just needed to rip the band-aid off. Like, I didn't need to read people's comments or lean into it, y'know? I don't have to drown in it. It's okay."

She seemed genuinely at ease, as if the pressure she had felt in the last few weeks had begun to slip away, and he could feel the change in her.

Austin gently moved back beside her, the weight of his body sinking the mattress a little further. He reached out and rubbed her arm soothingly. "I don't think it's dumb," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over her skin in slow circles. "Sometimes just facing it head-on, even if it's scary, makes all the difference."

She half-smiled, but there was still a lingering uncertainty in her voice as she spoke again. "Yeah, I'll probably feel different when the baby's born, or even next week. I just—I don't know. I'm not perfect. I've got all this anxiety, and sometimes it comes in waves."

Austin nodded, his hand moving to her lower back, pulling her closer to him. He could feel the subtle tension in her, the weight of everything she was carrying—physically, mentally, and emotionally, but he also felt that openness in her, the one she hadn't shown in so long. "You don't have to have everything figured out, Mair. It's okay to feel how you feel. The anxiety comes and goes, but I'll be here for it. And for you. Every step of the way."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and for a moment, the only sound between them was the gentle hum of the room. Austin pulled her in a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

"We're doing this together. You're allowed to be nervous. Hell, I'm nervous too. But I'll keep encouraging you whenever you need it. We've got this."

Mair sighed softly, a feeling of comfort washing over her. It was like a weight had been lifted just by saying the words aloud. "Thanks, Austin," she whispered. "I needed to hear that."

He smiled, pressing his lips gently to her hair. "You've always been my rock, you know that? So just lean on me."

She chuckled lightly, the sound warm and full of affection. "I know you've got my back. I'm just still figuring out how to be—well, me. But maybe, I'm starting to feel like I'm getting there."

Austin's smile deepened, his hand gently squeezing her side. "That's all I need to hear. Take your time. I'm right here."

Mair nestled a little closer to him, her body relaxing. She felt the quiet strength in his words and the comforting weight of his presence, and for the first time in months, she didn't feel like she was carrying the world on her shoulders alone.

Austin couldn't help but laugh as he watched her relax into the moment. His lips curled into a teasing smile, and he leaned in closer to her. "But I do have to tell you something," he said, his voice light with mischief.

Mair raised an eyebrow, sensing the teasing tone. "What now?" she asked, trying to keep her composure.

He grinned, not missing the way she was already rolling her eyes. "Some people are already calling you a milf."

Mair's face immediately flushed with embarrassment, her eyes narrowing as she swatted at his chest. "Austin, knock it off!" she snapped, but there was no real heat behind her words. It was more of an automatic reaction than actual annoyance.

Austin chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her flustered reaction. "I'm just saying, they've noticed," he teased, his grin growing wider.

Mair sighed, shaking her head as she pulled her arm away from his. "You are so ridiculous. I can't even believe you're bringing this up right now."

He shrugged, still grinning. "What? I'm just the messenger."

She rolled her eyes again, but despite herself, she couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips. "You're so annoying," she muttered, though the words didn't carry the bite they usually would.

"I think I'm a little bit charming," Austin teased.

She leaned into him, exasperated but still holding onto his arm, the hint of a smile still present. "You really know how to push my buttons. Just—don't ever say that in front of anyone else," she warned, her voice playful yet serious.

"I promise," he said, winking at her. "But I do think you're rocking the whole 'mom' look."

Mair shook her head, feeling a warmth spread through her despite her attempt to remain annoyed. "God, you're so ann—."

Austin laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Annoying? Nah, you don't mean that", savoring the comfort of her near him.

Austin stepped around to the passenger side as soon as the car stopped, brushing his hands down the front of his jacket like it might settle the nerves curling low in his stomach. The afternoon air was warm and just starting to dip into the kind of late spring breeze that made everything feel a little softer. Cicadas hummed somewhere in the trees, and the sun glinted off the old windows of the white house perched at the top of the steps.

He opened the car door and offered his hand.

Mair looked at him for a long second before slipping her fingers into his. The corners of his mouth twitched at the familiar feel of her hand in his. She stepped out carefully, the hem of her dress catching in the breeze.

It was the one they'd bought together back in Chicago. A soft, expensive-looking thing with fluttery cap sleeves and floral. The color looked like it had been made for her skin, and her hair was curled just slightly, loose enough to feel casual, but put together enough to know she'd tried.

They stood at the bottom of the steps for a second. The house was a beautiful old property, now strung with garlands of pink and white florals. Peonies, garden roses, delicate sprays of baby's breath and soft greenery hung from the porch rails and trailed over the columns. The door was open, and inside he could see more flowers, more soft candlelight, and the faint flicker of gold-foil signage and satin ribbons fluttering near the ceiling fans.

A floral arch wrapped around the doorframe. Pale pink balloons in various shades cascaded down the side like bubbles, gathered at the base into a bouquet of ivory and rose-gold. Mair's eyes scanned the whole thing—so much pink, it was beautiful and for a second, Austin wondered if it was too much.

Then he felt it: the slightest squeeze of her hand.

It was small, barely noticeable, but he knew her. He knew the way her fingers curled just so when she needed something she didn't know how to say out loud.

He leaned in, his voice low as he placed his other hand gently on her lower back. "I'm right here, Mair," he said.

She didn't respond, not with words. Just took a breath, nodded, and they started up the steps together.

Inside, it was upscale in the way only Texas could be. It was refined but still warm. Everything smelled like fresh flowers and vanilla bean. There were linen-covered cocktail tables dotting the living room and outside in the backyard, each one topped with a small centerpiece of roses, tulips, or hydrangeas in crystal-cut vases. On the buffet table, fancy finger foods were artfully arranged on tiered trays. The miniature quiches, tea sandwiches, fruit skewers that looked like they'd been arranged with tweezers. A tiny sign in gold script labeled everything.

But the drinks table stole the show.

There was a full bar, built just for the day. One side held the usual with champagne and wine and signature cocktails for the family and older guests, but the other was all mocktails. Austin's stepmom had gone all out. There were rosewater lemonades, lavender spritzes, sparkling blood orange and mint coolers, even a cherry limeade with tiny edible flowers frozen in the ice cubes. Each drink was served in real glassware, rimmed in sugar or salt, with little heart shaped stirrers. It was extra. Over-the-top, even. And yet, it was kind of perfect.

The guest list had stayed tight, just like Mair wanted. It was mostly Austin's family, a few of his dad's oldest friends from the area, some of the neighbors who had known him since he was a kid, and a couple of his hometown friends who now had kids of their own. No influencers. No press. No one from LA. Just people who knew them, who genuinely cared.

Still, he could feel the tension in Mair as she looked around. She was trying. Smiling when people greeted her, accepting compliments, letting herself be hugged. But Austin saw how her hands stayed curled slightly at her sides, how she stood just a bit stiff, and how her eyes kept moving like she was counting how long she had left before it would be okay to slip away to the bathroom for a few deep breaths.

So he stayed close. He didn't hover, but he never moved too far away either.

But it was a day of happiness too.

There was no other way to describe it. From the moment they stepped into the house, Mair had been wrapped up in warmth, her chest felt full in a way that had nothing to do with hormones or nerves.

Austin's family doted on her like she was one of their own. Not because of the baby, not because of the history, but because they truly loved her.

"You look so beautiful, honey," one of his aunts said, reaching out to adjust the soft sleeve of Mair's dress. "Glowing, just like they say you will, but you actually are. It's not just a myth this time."

"Those cheeks!" another added, pressing a gentle hand to her own. "You've always been so pretty, but pregnancy suits you. I mean it."

Mair smiled, a little pink in the cheeks now for real. "You're all just being nice."

"No, sweetheart," Austin's stepmom cut in, carrying a tray of tiny pink cupcakes. "We're being honest. That's what happens when someone deserves to be celebrated."

She didn't know what to say to that or how to hold the sweetness without getting emotional so she just nodded, whispered a soft thank you, and took the offered cupcake with a sheepish little grin.

At some point in the middle of the afternoon, with the backyard humming softly from conversation and laughter, Mair quietly excused herself from the group of women sitting beneath the shade. She rubbed her hand over her belly with a small sigh and made her way inside the house.

Austin, who was refilling his drink at the mocktail bar, caught sight of her walking through the French doors. He set his glass down and followed after her, weaving past a few of his dad's old friends and slipping into the cool air of the old house.

He found her in the hallway near the powder room, just as she was stepping out.

"Oh," she blinked at him, amused. "Are you following me?"

Austin gave her a sheepish look. "Maybe."

She raised an eyebrow. "I just had to pee."

"I figured," he said with a soft grin, scratching the back of his neck. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked a little overwhelmed earlier."

Mair leaned against the wall for a second, letting it steady her. "Yeah, it's a lot," she admitted. "But I'm having a nice time. Everyone's been really sweet."

Austin stepped closer, lowering his voice, like the house was sacred somehow. "I'm glad." He glanced down at her belly, then back up at her face. "You look beautiful, by the way."

Her cheeks flushed a little. "Thank you," she said softly.

Just then, she felt it—sharp and unmistakable. The baby kicked, and her eyes widened.

"Oh, she's going wild again," she murmured, placing a hand over her belly.

Austin's gaze dropped instantly, his face lighting up with pure joy as he crouched in front of her, hands gentle and familiar as he pressed his palms lightly to either side of her bump. "I think Win knows this party's for her," he whispered, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Mair chuckled, her fingers instinctively slipping into his curls, lightly scratching his scalp the way she used to, back when things were simpler. He leaned into the touch without thinking.

"You feel her?" she asked.

"Yeah," he breathed, awestruck. "She's showing off."

They stayed like that for a quiet moment, the hum of the party muffled behind them, the only sound between them the soft rhythm of their breath and the thump of their baby under his hands.

Then the moment broke when light footsteps came down the hallway and Austin's stepmom's voice followed. "There you two are! We were just about to cut the cake!"

Austin rose to his feet, a little reluctantly, but he offered Mair his hand again, steadying her.

"Coming," Mair said, giving his stepmom a warm smile.

As they made their way back outside, Austin's hand found the small of her back again.

Later, she found herself sitting on a tufted white loveseat out on the porch, surrounded by three of Austin's aunts and a neighbor who had apparently known him "when he still had little baby curls." The afternoon sun filtered in through gauzy curtains tied back with more pink ribbon, and someone had set a glass of mock sangria in front of her.

"So...nursery theme?" one of the aunts asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Oh, um, not really a theme yet. Just kind of soft, natural tones? Lots of wood and neutral colors."

"That sounds lovely," another said. "Very Mair."

"She's always had good taste," his stepmom chimed in, nudging her playfully.

"And have you picked out names yet?" a different aunt asked, eyes twinkling.

Mair laughed a little. "We've got an idea, but we haven't told anyone yet."

"Oh, I love baby names," one of them said. "Want to hear my top five girl names of all time?"

She nodded, laughing again, and the aunt pulled out her phone like she'd been waiting for someone to ask.

The questions kept coming, each one well-meaning, each one gentle and full of love. How was she feeling? Did she have any weird cravings? What kind of stroller were they thinking? Did she want Austin in the delivery room or just hovering outside?

She answered as best she could without being overly detailed. They didn't press. They just wanted to know her, to make her feel like she belonged. And she did, in this soft little pocket of the afternoon. She really did.

The afternoon had unfolded like a storybook, with laughter echoing softly around the house. People milled about, chatting and catching up, their voices blending into the hum of music in the background.

Mair was sitting around with a piece of cake.

"Mair, sweetie," she said with a warm smile. "Come on, let's get some pictures. I want a few with everyone together."

Mair nodded, standing up from where she had been perched on a chair, feeling a little giddy at the idea of finally having this memory captured. She stepped over to Austin, who reached for her hand instinctively, squeezing it gently as they walked toward his parents.

The first round of photos was easy and comfortable. Everyone gathered close, Austin standing tall with his dad and his stepmom. Mair's hand rested on her belly, still feeling like a soft, protected place for the baby as the camera clicked away. His brother, a little quieter than the rest of the group but equally warm, stood next to her, smiling with a twinkle of affection.

The photos were full of love, his family was warm and there was no awkwardness despite the complicated history between him and Mair. Austin knew how much his stepmom adored Mair and knew how much this moment meant to her.

When the last shot was taken, his stepmom stepped back and gave a satisfied nod. "Perfect," she said, brushing her hands together. "Now, one with just you and me, Mair."

Mair looked at Austin for a moment, searching his eyes and all she saw was soft affection in them. She smiled and nodded.

She stood beside his stepmom, who threw her arm around Mair's shoulders in the most natural, loving way. Austin's stepmom had always seemed to appreciate the closeness of another woman in their family, a presence she cherished, much like Austin's mom.

They posed for a few more shots, laughing and chatting between clicks. The vibe was easy, comfortable, and yet, somehow, it still made Mair feel like an integral part of their family.

Afterward, Austin's stepmom turned to her husband. "Alright, let's get some with just Austin and Mair. You two, go ahead. We'll stand back."

Austin took Mair's hand and led her out in front of the group, feeling the weight of the camera lenses trained on them. The air seemed to shift as they stood there together. It was just the two of them and yet it felt like the whole world was surrounding them in that moment.

Austin stepped a little closer, resting his hand gently on her belly. His fingers splayed out protectively, the kind of touch that said, "I'm here. I'm here with you, with our baby, always." It wasn't a touch of ownership, but of tenderness and a quiet promise. His other hand went to her back, guiding her gently into a pose that felt intimate, natural, even amidst the clicks of the camera.

He didn't need to say anything. The way he was looking at her, the soft smile he wore, told her everything. That look of love, protection, and hope for the future was more than words ever could be.

"Perfect," Austin's stepmom said quietly from behind the lens. "You two look just like you did at prom."

For a brief moment, Austin didn't even notice that the others had moved off, that it was just him and Mair now, standing close together in the quiet of this shared space. He lowered his gaze to her belly, that gentle curve he'd spent so much time staring at in the middle of the night, when everything was still and his thoughts felt louder than usual.

Mair looked up at him, her eyes soft, her smile faint but real.

"Thank you," she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she meant for the picture or for everything he was doing for them.

Austin kissed the top of her head gently, feeling a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a long time. Even in the middle of the chaos of this beautiful day, surrounded by friends and family, he felt like they were the only ones there—like it was just them, this baby, and everything they were still trying to build together. He didn't say it, but in that moment, he thought that if this was the beginning of what was to come, maybe they could get through this.

As the baby shower began winding down, people were starting to gather their things, wrapping up conversations, and saying their goodbyes. The atmosphere was warm, filled with soft laughter and the sound of shoes tapping against the wooden floors as guests made their way to the door. Mair was standing near the front of the house, her hand resting on her belly, when one of Austin's aunts came up to her with a small, wrapped gift in her hands.

"Here, sweetie," his aunt said, holding the gift out to Mair. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to get something for the baby. Something to give them some roots here in Texas."

Mair looked down at the small gift, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Aw, you shouldn't have," she said, her voice warm but touched. "We don't need any gifts, really. The baby's already so loved." She hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of his family.

Austin's aunt just smiled, shaking her head. "It's nothing big, I promise. Just a little something." She handed the small package to Mair, her eyes sparkling with affection. "The baby's going to need something Texas-y, don't you think?"

Mair took the gift with a soft chuckle, gently pulling the wrapping paper away to reveal a small onesie inside. It was a simple light blue, with the unmistakable bold logo of the Dallas Cowboys stitched across the chest in a deep navy. The little onesie, with its tiny sleeves and its oversized design for a baby, was so small yet so meaningful.

Mair laughed softly, holding it up to the light. "A Cowboys onesie?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "It's adorable, thank you."

Austin's aunt winked at her. "I figured it was a good way to start them off right, get a little bit of Texas pride in their blood."

Mair smiled at her, feeling the warmth of the gesture settle in her chest. The onesie was small, but it was symbolic in its own way—a sign that this baby, despite everything, would be part of this family, part of this new chapter, wherever it took them. The thought made her heart swell a little.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Austin standing by the door, talking to his dad. But his attention shifted toward Mair as she held up the onesie, his smile widening at the sight. She could see that he thought it was the coolest thing.

His eyes softened, and he came over to her, his steps light on the hardwood floors as he approached. He looked at the onesie in her hands, then back at her, a fond grin on his face. "Well, that's one way to make sure the baby starts with a good foundation," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of amusement and pride.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

Mair's lips curled into a smile as she nodded, feeling the weight of everything they were navigating together. "It's cute," she said, her voice quieter now, a little more reflective. She looked up at him, her gaze lingering as she thought about everything that had happened, everything they still had to work through. But in this moment, standing in the middle of the room, she felt something like peace. Like they were moving forward, step by step.

Austin stepped closer, reaching for her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. "Yeah," he said, looking at the onesie one more time before meeting her eyes. "It's perfect."

Mair had said goodbye to so many people she'd lost count—Austin's aunts, uncles, cousins, old friends of his dad's who remembered him as a kid, and a few of his childhood friends who couldn't believe they were about to have a baby.

Now, back at his parents' house, everything felt quieter, cozier. Austin's stepmom had made tea, and his dad had turned on the TV but kept the volume low, mostly just flipping channels. Mair was curled up on the couch in loose and a sweatshirt with a plate of leftover cake resting on her knee. Austin sat beside her, arm behind her, their legs almost touching, his thumb lazily scrolling through his phone until it lit up with a call.

"Gimme a sec," he murmured, standing. "It's Dre."

Mair nodded, taking another slow bite of cake as he stepped into the hallway.

She heard his voice low and animated at first, then a quiet, muffled, "No way." A pause. "Are you serious?"

When he came back in a few minutes later, he didn't even try to hide the grin on his face.

"Okay," he said, clapping his hands together once as he stepped into the living room. "You're not gonna believe this."

His dad turned from the TV, raising a brow. Mair glanced up, smiling gently, curious.

"They want me to perform at the Cowboys game halftime show. Like it's locked in if I say yes."

His dad's face lit up. "No kidding?"

"I'm serious. Halftime. Cowboys game. We'll get a suite so everyone can come."

Mair blinked, sitting up a little straighter. "Austin, that's amazing."

His eyes landed on her like they always did when something big happened—when he wanted her opinion more than anyone's. "You'd wanna go, right? I mean we'll be in a private suite, just family. It won't be too much."

She could see how much it meant to him, she could feel it in the way he hovered, waiting for her answer.

"I want to come," she said, her voice soft but sure. "I want to see you perform. It's been too long."

Austin's smile stretched wider, but not in that over-the-top way he used with cameras. This one was quieter, deeper, the kind he only gave when something really mattered.

"You sure?" he asked again, checking.

She nodded. "Yeah. I want to be there."

He leaned in and kissed her shoulder, murmuring, "It's gonna be so fun."

Later that evening, the front door creaked open, sunlight spilling across the hardwood floors as his stepmom's voice carried into the house before they were even fully inside.

"—and then we passed this little pop-up stand near the church and I couldn't resist! Look at these!" she announced brightly, stepping inside with a large bouquet of warm-toned flowers in one hand and a balloon in the other. "The sweetest ladies were working it, they even threw in this balloon for free when they heard it was for a mom-to-be."

Austin stood from the couch where he'd been half-watching a game with his dad, the volume low, both of them having fallen into a quiet after the intense conversation earlier. He blinked, still coming out of his own head.

But his attention immediately snapped to Mair.

She came in just behind his stepmom, a little flushed from the long day, her hair up in a messy bun that looked like she'd twisted it into place quickly in the car.

She looked beautiful. And so completely hers. He felt his heart trip over itself.

She offered him a soft smile, small and tired, but still real. "Hi," she said, adjusting the balloon string in her fingers.

"Hey," he replied, voice catching slightly. She didn't seem to notice.

His stepmom began bustling around, opening drawers to find a vase for the flowers. "We had the nicest day, didn't we, Mair? Just wandered for a bit, grabbed something cold to drink, and popped in a couple shops. She's a trooper. Kept up with me the whole time."

Mair gave a little laugh. "She kept up with me, actually. I think she was surprised by how fast I move for being six months pregnant."

"That I was," his stepmom grinned. "I'll get these flowers in water before they wilt. You sit, honey."

But Austin could barely track the rest of what she was saying. Her voice became a faint murmur under the thud of his heartbeat. He was focused entirely on Mair.

The way she sat at the edge of the armchair, carefully lowering herself with a hand at her back. The way her other hand absently smoothed down the curve of her belly. How she tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear and gave his stepmom her full attention as she unpacked their day, even if her eyes flicked to him now and then. Like she was checking in. Like maybe she wasn't entirely sure what was going on in his head.

He barely knew how to put it into words himself. But something had shifted. The conversation with his dad had cracked something open in him, and now it was pouring out.

He needed her to know what he was thinking.

It burned in his throat, in his chest. He was trying to be respectful of her space, to not push, to not overwhelm her, but it was getting too hard to hold in. She was right there. She had no idea that earlier in the day, he'd sat with his dad, choking up about the thought of losing her, about the thought of their daughter not growing up in a home where her parents loved each other openly.

She didn't know how much he hated that they were still on opposite ends of this thing, both present, both trying in their own ways, but still dancing around the heaviness that lay between them.

He watched her as she reached into the gift bag she'd brought in, pulling out a tiny onesie with embroidered sunflowers on the chest. She handed it to his stepmom, who made an immediate cooing noise.

But Austin couldn't look away from Mair.

She was trying. She was always trying. Just like she had since the beginning.

And he realized he couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't pretend he was okay waiting for the right moment. He didn't know if there would ever be one. He was past the point of fear. Past the point of rehearsing it all in his head.

He needed her to know how much he loved her. How much he loved the baby growing inside her. How desperately he wanted to be the kind of man she could love again.

Later that evening, after the flowers were in a vase and the house had settled into that quiet hum of nightfall, Mair padded up the stairs, a small yawn escaping as she made her way to the bedroom. The soft cotton of the band tee clung to her belly. She tugged it down gently and felt a dull ache in her lower back, just a reminder of the long day out and the weight she was carrying.

Austin followed a minute behind, fresh from rinsing off in the bathroom. His hair was still damp at the ends, and he wore a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt, eyes shadowed from something he hadn't named yet. He looked like he hadn't quite come back down to earth.

Mair noticed it the moment he stepped into the room.

"How was the day?" he asked softly, coming to stand near the bed where she was folding back the blanket. His voice was rough like he hadn't spoken in hours.

"It was nice," she said, glancing over at him. "We walked around a bunch. Got smoothies. No one approached me or took photos, so it was good."

Austin nodded, slow and distracted. "Good. good."

She sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, massaging her lower back, watching him as he hovered. He kept rubbing the back of his neck like something was buzzing under his skin. His eyes were far away, focused on a point somewhere behind her. She knew that look.

He wasn't here.

"What's wrong?" she asked, voice gentle but direct.

He blinked. His eyes flicked to hers like she'd yanked him back from whatever edge he'd been pacing. "What?"

"You're somewhere else," she said, softer now. "What's going on?"

He swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. For a beat, she thought maybe he wouldn't say anything at all and just shake his head and mumble something vague and bury it for another day.

But then he exhaled sharply and sat down next to her.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he said, staring at his hands. "About us. About everything."

They were quiet for a while in the soft lamplight of the guest room. Mair sat on the edge of the bed, twisting the hem of her sleep shirt between her fingers. She had just finished her skincare and brushed out her hair—mundane acts that usually helped calm her, but tonight her nerves still buzzed low under her skin. Something was off with Austin. He was sitting near the dresser, half dressed for bed but not moving, not speaking. His brows were pinched like he was caught in a thought he couldn't shake.

She turned slightly toward him. "What's wrong?"

He blinked like he'd just come back to the room. His eyes landed on her slowly, deliberately, and she could tell he'd been building up to this—whatever it was—for a while.

"I, uh—" He stood up carefully, running a hand through his hair before walking over to her.

She expected him to kneel or pace or say something fast and anxious, but instead he sat beside her, hesitating for a second before gently placing his hand on her belly.

It was warm. Familiar. The baby kicked faintly under his palm. Austin's throat bobbed. And then he started to speak, almost like the touch had broken open a dam in him.

"I know it's complicated," he said softly, eyes still focused on where his hand rested. "And I know it's complicated because of me."

She stayed still, barely breathing.

"We haven't really talked about what happened. I mean, we've said stuff. You let me have it after your appointment and I deserved it, I know that, but after that, it's like we just switched gears. Everything became about the baby. Which I get. I get it. But I think maybe part of me hoped if we just kept moving, maybe the rest would somehow sort itself out."

He finally looked up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

"But it's not. And it won't. Unless I say this."

Her hands were folded in her lap. She didn't stop him.

"I just—" He sighed. "I love you so much, Mair. And I'm so sorry. I hate myself for what I did. For putting you through this. For ruining the one thing in my life that's always been good. You."

His voice cracked. "You've always been good. I know I told you I was getting help, and I want you to know that wasn't just some empty promise. I've been going. I haven't been drinking. I haven't been using anything. I've cut people off that I should've cut off a long time ago. I've been doing the work. And not just for show. Not to earn you back like some reward. But because I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to change."

He paused to breathe, to find steadiness.

"I want to be better. For me. For our baby. But mostly for you. Because you've always deserved that."

He pulled his hand away from her belly then, but only so he could reach for her hand gently, letting her decide if she'd let him hold it.

"I know you're overwhelmed. And I know you're trying to just get through the days right now. I see you making space for me, even when you don't have to. I see the little ways you let me back in. And I know that doesn't mean everything's okay, but it gives me hope."

His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

"I don't expect you to say anything. You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve that yet. But I just needed you to know what's in my heart because it's been eating me alive. We're cosmic. I've always felt that way."

"I love you," he said again, quieter this time. "I love this baby. And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be the kind of person you and her deserve."

He sat back, eyes rimmed pink, breath shallow. He didn't ask for her forgiveness. Didn't plead.

He just waited.

Mair didn't say anything right away.  She looked down at their joined hands, his thumb still moving gently over her knuckles. Her other hand drifted subconsciously to her belly, still warm from where he'd touched her. She stared down at the bump for a long moment, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.

"I appreciate you telling me," she said quietly. Her voice was steady, but there was something heavy under it, in an effort to hold herself together.

Austin nodded slowly, trying not to let his hope rush in too fast.

"I've been trying to figure out how to say something," she continued, shifting slightly so she was facing him more. "But every time I start thinking about us, about that—it's like my brain short-circuits."

Her eyes met his, full of emotion but clear. "I'm just so tired. And scared. And trying to make sure this baby is okay, and that I'm okay for her. I wake up every day with a checklist of things I need to do, and on the top of it is just survive."

Austin's chest ached. He didn't interrupt.

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I love you. I do. And I don't hate you. I never have. If I hated you, this would be so much easier."

Her eyes started to water. She blinked fast.

"I'm just—hurt. And I haven't even let myself sit in that, you know? Because if I go there—if I really go there, I don't know if I'd make it back out. So I keep moving. I focus on the baby and staying healthy and checking in with my therapist and trying not to spiral when I see a picture of myself online or when people talk about us like they know anything about it."

Austin's jaw flexed, but he stayed quiet, letting her get it all out.

"I see you trying. I see you changing," she said. "I don't doubt that. And I'm proud of you for it. But it doesn't just erase the ache or the trust that cracked."

Her voice softened. "It's not just about the cheating. It's about the months leading up to it. It's how distant you got, how I felt like I was screaming underwater and you didn't hear me. It's that I've loved you so much and for so long, and you didn't even realize how far I'd gone in my head. You didn't notice we were slipping away until it was too late."

Austin's throat went dry. "I did notice. I just—" He stopped himself, shook his head. "There's no excuse. You're right. I should've been there. I should've seen it. You've always been the one who saw me."

Mair exhaled shakily. "I don't know what this means. Us. I know you want an answer. I know you want to move forward. But I don't know if I'm ready. I don't know if I can open that part of myself back up without it consuming me."

Austin nodded, eyes glistening. "I get that. I swear I do. I wasn't trying to push you or ask for some decision. I just...I've been carrying this around and it was killing me not to say it. Not to let you know how much I still love you. How much I love her. How I'll do whatever it takes to be someone you can trust again."

He hesitated, then added, "Even if you never come back to me. Even if I have to love you from across the room for the rest of my life."

That cracked something open in her. The tears she'd been holding back welled over, slipping quietly down her cheeks. She turned her face away, brushing them with the back of her hand, trying to keep her composure. "You saying that—it means something. I'm not pretending it doesn't."

He reached for her hand again, slowly. "Can I still hold your hand?"

She nodded without looking at him, letting him link their fingers again.

They sat like that for a while, silent but not distant. The air between them thick with everything that had gone unsaid for months.

Finally, she whispered, "I don't want to raise her in a broken home."

"You won't," he said instantly. "I'm not going anywhere."

She looked over at him. "But what if I can't give you what you want?"

"Then I'll still be here," he said, voice thick. "I'll still be her dad. I'll still be there for you however you'll let me. Whatever you need from me, Mair, I'll be it. I just want her to know love. And for you to feel safe."

She swallowed hard. "That means everything. But I also don't want to give you false hope. I don't know where I'll be emotionally in a few months. I don't know how I'll feel once she's born and everything changes."

"I don't need a guarantee," he said gently. "I just need you to keep letting me show up. That's all."

She studied him for a moment. Her expression was tired, but there was a softness returning. A flicker of what used to be there.

"I can do that," she said. "I can let you keep showing up."

They sat together in the quiet hum of the room, the late hour settling around them like a blanket. There was no grand resolution. No sudden kiss or tearful reunion.

But there was honesty.

And maybe that was enough for tonight.

She didn't say anything else, but she didn't need to. The way he was looking at her, tender and open, like she was still the only thing that mattered in the room, stirred something deep in her chest.

It wasn't the first time he'd looked at her like that. And suddenly, she was seventeen again, sitting cross-legged on the floor of her childhood bedroom, his hoodie drowning her frame, the air between them thick with unspoken feelings.

It was junior year. Homecoming had come and gone, and they were still just friends—technically. But everything had already started to shift. That night, he'd walked her home from the bonfire, their fingers brushing but never quite linking, like they were both afraid of what it would mean if they did.

She remembered how quiet he'd been, how unlike him. And then, in that low voice he used when he was serious—when he was scared—he said, "Can I tell you something and you promise not to make fun of me?"

She'd looked at him, heart already thudding against her ribs. "Always."

He sat on her floor, back against her bed, arms resting on his knees. He wasn't looking at her when he said it. "I think I'm in love with you."

She hadn't said anything at first—hadn't known what to say. But she remembered the way her heart had dropped and risen at the same time. She remembered the terror in his voice, the crack in it. How he looked so small in that moment, even though he took up half the room.

"I don't need you to say anything," he'd added quickly, almost tripping over the words. "I just needed you to know."

And now, sitting on the edge of the bed in his dad's house, pregnant with his child and unsure of what their future looked like, he'd just done it again. Maybe not with those exact words. But the way he said he was here, the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that could ever really wreck him or save him, it felt the same. Like he was holding his heart out again and trusting her not to break it.

Mair blinked, shaking the memory loose, her thumb still brushing against his.

"I keep thinking about when you told me you loved me," she said suddenly, not quite meaning to.

Austin's brow lifted slightly. "Yeah?"

He let out a quiet laugh, almost sheepish. "I was so nervous I thought I was gonna puke."

She smiled, just a little, but it was real.

"I think that was the first time I let myself admit I loved you back," she said softly.

Austin watched her. "And now?"

Her eyes dropped, not in shame but in weight. "I don't know. I'm not saying I don't—I do. I think I always will. I'm just trying to find solid ground right now."

He nodded, not pushing. "You take all the time you need. I'll be right here. Always"

They didn't speak after that. Not for a while. She leaned back into the pillows, one hand on her belly, and he sat beside her, quiet and present, like he promised.

*MATURE*

Back in the villa, they took their time getting ready. Mair sat at the vanity, running a brush through her damp hair, the soft curls still holding from the earlier humidity. She changed into a silky dress in a warm blush color that hugged her body perfectly. It was romantic and effortless. Austin watched her from the edge of the bed, already dressed in a loose button-up and dark pants, his nails catching the light when he rubbed his jaw.

"You're gonna make everyone in that dining room lose their damn minds," he said as she applied a little tinted balm.

She smirked without looking at him. "I only care what you think."

They walked hand in hand down to the resort's restaurant, lanterns flickering gently in the breeze. The dining room was beautiful with rustic wood beams and floor-to-ceiling windows opening up to a breathtaking view of the coast. Their server led them to a table tucked in the corner, semi-private but still open enough to see the horizon.

Dinner was slow and indulgent. They shared everything: grilled oysters, heirloom tomato salad, halibut with lemon butter, and handmade pasta. Mair's cheeks hurt from smiling. Austin kept refilling her glass just enough to keep her glowing. Their knees brushed under the table the whole time, a quiet tether between them.

He didn't make any more dirty comments, but his eyes didn't stop looking her over either.

When they returned to the villa, the sky had turned a deep blue-black, stars crisp. Their villa was lit softly with low lamps. Austin opened the door for her, and Mair stepped inside, her shoes clicking lightly on the floor, robe from earlier now draped over her arm.

She turned to him with that soft, post-wine smile, her lashes fluttering just a bit. "This has been the best anniversary," she said, voice quiet and sincere.

Austin stepped in behind her and locked the door. "It's not even close to being over yet."

Mair darted into the bathroom the moment they settled inside the villa. Austin was still taking off his shoes when he heard her muffled voice behind the door: "No peeking!"

He chuckled, sinking down onto the edge of the bed, letting the wine warmth settle deeper into his limbs. He watched the fireplace crackling low in the corner. It felt like a dream, like some alternate universe where time slowed down just for them.

The bathroom door creaked open, and she stepped out, wrapped in the plush resort robe, her legs peeking out with every step.

"I'm never taking this off," she declared dramatically, running her hands down the thick fabric. "This is the best thing to ever exist. I could wear it forever. To class, to parties, to my own wedding."

Austin raised a brow, smirking as he stood. "I see something lacey peeking out, Robe Girl."

Before he could get another word in, she pointed at him, eyes playful. "Nope. Go put yours on. We're matching."

"Yes, ma'am." He grabbed his robe from the hook, quickly undressed and tugged it on, shaking his head as he tied the sash. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I do, I really do."

She grabbed her phone from the dresser and said, "Okay, stand still. I need at least one photo of us looking like two cozy freaks in love."

He came over without complaint, wrapping an arm lazily around her shoulder while she snuggled into him. She took one with a big grin, one where they looked off into the fireplace, and one where he kissed her temple and she caught it in the mirror.

She studied the last one and whispered, "Ugh, you're so cute it makes me sick."

"You're the one who insisted on a photoshoot," he laughed.

"True," she said. "Anyways, sit."

He blinked. "Sit?"

She nodded, suddenly shy as she padded to her bag and pulled out a small box. "I, um, got you something."

He squinted, surprised. "Are we doing gifts right now?"

Mair tilted her head, playing innocent. "You got me a gift?"

Austin narrowed his eyes, grinning. "Mairead..."

She giggled and pushed the box toward him. "Just focus on this right now."

"I'm honestly shocked. I thought you'd forget since you conviently keep calling it your anniversary," he teased, even as his fingers curled around the ribbon.

She stepped close and tugged gently on the belt of his robe. "I know it's ours, Austin," she murmured sweetly. "I just can't help it. You're so adorable when you get pouty."

He huffed out a laugh and let his gaze roam slowly over her robe that is just barely hiding what he knew had to be underneath. "You're a fucking siren, you know that?"

She bit her lip, beaming, and nodded toward the box. "Open it."

Inside was a custom gold lighter engraved with the coordinates of the place they'd first kissed, outside this restaurant back in Chicago when they were teenagers.

Tucked next to it was a small hand-drawn sketch of that same restaurant. It was her messy but charming distinct style. It was more touching than anything money could buy.

His throat tightened. "Mair—"

She handed him a folded card next. Her handwriting was neat, careful, almost too perfect. It was just a simple note talking about how proud she was of him, how grateful she was that they'd grown together, that he never stopped making her laugh, and never stopped making her feel safe. At the bottom, she wrote:

Five years and I'd still choose you every time.

Always yours,

-Mair

He didn't say anything right away.

She shifted nervously on her feet, tucking hair behind her ear. "Do you like it? It's hard buying gifts for you."

He looked up at her slowly, eyes glassy. "Mair." His voice was hoarse. "It's great baby. You're always good at gift giving."

She smiled, small and soft. "Is it better than the wax?"

He barked out a laugh, reached for her hand, and pulled her gently down into his lap.

"Well I don't know yet, we haven't gotten to that part".

Austin nudged his nose against her cheek and said, "Do you want one of your gifts?"

Mair gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh my god, you got me multiple gifts?"

He narrowed his eyes, amused. "I have to beg you to buy something for yourself, but the second it's a holiday, you get so damn bratty."

She laughed and rolled off his lap, sprawling onto the bed like a content cat, her robe pooling around her.

"Shut up. It's called balance," she mumbled into the comforter as he walked over to his suitcase.

He crouched down, unzipping the side compartment where he'd stashed it earlier. The paper was simple—no bow, no tag. Just how he knew she liked it. Thoughtful but not flashy.

He came back and held it out. "This is one of them. Don't go looking for the others yet."

She sat up, legs tucked under her, and took it with both hands. Her fingers lingered over the folded edge of the paper.

"You spoil me," she said softly, eyes already glassy with gratitude.

Austin sat beside her, watching the way she cradled the gift instead of tearing into it.

"I like doing it," he said, just as softly.

She peeled back the wrapping with care, like she didn't want to ruin any part of it. Austin watched her face, the anticipation, and the little crease in her brow when she focused. She always opened gifts like she was unwrapping a secret.

Inside was a first edition copy of a book of poetry by E.E. Cummings. The same copy she had borrowed once from the school library and sobbed over when she had to return it. He'd remembered that.

Her fingers froze on the cover. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

He gave her a small smile. "I had to get it shipped from a place in London. Took forever to get here."

She looked up at him, eyes full. "Aus—"

"I thought it might be nice for your nightstand. So you can read it before bed and then call me to cry about it."

Her laugh cracked right through the rising emotion. "You're such a romantic."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tight. "This is such a beautiful gift," she whispered. "I mean it."

He tucked his face into her shoulder, his voice low against her skin. "You're the best gift I've ever gotten."

They sat like that for a long moment, the robe soft between them, the night quiet except for the rustle of pages as she opened the book and flipped to a poem to dog-ear.

Then she handed him a polaroid from her pocket. And waved it off as just something extra she did. It was a polaroid of her from earlier, taken when he was snapping pictures of her on the trail. She'd been laughing, sun on her face, hand up from when she was trying to cover the lens. On the back, she'd written in her perfect loopy handwriting:

thank you for loving every version of me. happy five years and here's to many more.

p.s. there's no version of this life i want where you aren't in it.

He looked at her, eyes soft and shining. "I'm keeping this in my wallet," he said, voice a little thick.

"You better."

She kissed him slow, the kind of kiss that said thank you and I love you and don't ever go anywhere. The kiss started sweet and full of lingering gratitude and anniversary weight. But it quickly deepened, like neither of them had much interest in holding back anymore. Mair pressed closer, her hand slipping up the back of his neck and Austin kissed her like he was trying to memorize every corner of her mouth.

Between kisses, he reached blindly for the book still sitting between them. Carefully, he set it on the nightstand with the polaroid resting gently on top, her handwriting just barely visible in the dim light.

"Should've known you were buttering me up for something," he teased, voice rough, but smiling against her lips.

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Can't a girl give a sweet, heartfelt gift without being accused of manipulation?"

"With you? Never."

She laughed, and it was that specific laugh that always hit him right in the chest, like a punch and a hug at the same time.

He shifted, his hand finding the edge of her robe. His fingers traced the soft curve of her collarbone, then dipped lower, following the slope of her neck with his mouth and pressing kisses just beneath her ear, then her jaw, then the top of her shoulder.

Her breath hitched.

He toyed with the loose string tied at her waist. "This robe's barely doing its job."

She tilted her chin up defiantly, teasing. "Then maybe it's not trying to."

He tugged the sash free in one slow pull. The robe fell open just enough to reveal what was underneath and Austin sat back like he needed to take her in properly.

The lingerie was dreamy, it had a delicate floral appliqué over sheer mesh, with soft blush and green tones stitched with tiny metallic threads that shimmered subtly in the light.

The bralette was unlined, scalloped at the edge, the straps thin. The matching bottoms were high-waisted, almost vintage-inspired, with thin mesh panels and intricate florals that traced along her hips and dipped in the front like petals.

He blinked. "Where the fuck did you get this?"

Mair smirked, eyes low-lidded. "A boutique I follow. It was hard to find. Worth it, though?"

Austin exhaled like she'd just knocked the wind out of him. "You look like some kind of—like a fucking fairy. A hot-ass celestial fairy."

Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip, feigning shyness but clearly pleased.

He leaned forward and kissed the strap sitting on her shoulder. "I don't even know if I'm allowed to touch you in this."

"Why not?" she asked, voice airy, a smile tugging at her mouth.

"Because it feels sacred. Like I'd need a blessing first or something."

She laughed, pulling him in by the front of his robe until he was hovering over her. Her voice dropped low, just for him.

"You're allowed. Good enough?"

His eyes roamed over her, slow like he was trying to take mental snapshots he could come back to later. His hands stayed on either side of her hips, steady, as if he was holding back.

"I don't want to take it off you yet," he said quietly, almost like it was a confession.

Mair's lips curled. "You don't have to." She sat up a little, brushing her nose against his. "You can admire it. For now."

She reached for his robe's tie and tugged it loose with the same unhurried touch he'd used with hers. There was something indulgent about how slowly she peeled it off his shoulders, pushing the thick fabric back and down his arms until he was left in just his boxers. Her hands ran up his chest. It was warm, firm, and familiar, then her mouth followed.

She kissed a slow path up his sternum, then his collarbone, lips just barely touching, teasing the skin there. Her fingers hooked behind his neck.

"Down here," she whispered, giving him a look, soft but certain.

Austin bent, dropping to meet her mouth again, and this time the kiss was hungrier. She opened to him immediately, her hands skating across the muscles of his back, pulling him closer.

His hand slid up her side, palm grazing the soft fabric of her lingerie, fingers tracing the floral lace along her ribs and just beneath her breast.

"You're unreal," he murmured, almost to himself.

She grinned against his mouth, whispering, "So are you."

His thumb circled just above the waistband of her underwear, teasing at the edge, but still not rushing.

He let his fingers move with intention, over the rise of her hip, then back up, relishing the texture of the lace, the delicate way it hugged her.

"Everything about you," he said, voice low, "is fucking art."

Austin dropped to his knees in front of her like it was instinct. His hands skimmed up her calves first, then her thighs, slow and sure. When he reached the soft skin just beneath the hem of her lingerie bottoms, he gripped gently, thumbs pressing into the delicate give of her inner thighs as he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. Mair shifted easily under his touch, her legs opening just enough to welcome him in.

His eyes lifted to hers for a moment, and then dropped again as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to one thigh, then the other. The kisses were delicate, open-mouthed, and his breath skimming her skin in between.

She let her head fall back slightly, lips parted.

He toyed with the waistband of her panties, his thumbs teasing just beneath the lace. His voice was rough with restraint. "Do I finally get to see?"

Mair looked down at him, chin tilted, lashes low. Her fingers ghosted through his curls. "Mmm. You've been patient."

Austin huffed out a laugh, his thumbs still stroking the hem. "Barely."

"You earned it," she said, voice lilting, teasing. "The hike. The spa. The cheese board."

He kissed the inside of her thigh again, slower this time and it made her thighs twitch.

She smiled, her voice nothing but breath, "I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

His hands moved slowly and deliberately. He didn't want to startle her or rush the moment. One palm stayed warm and steady against her thigh while the other gently slid the lace of her panties to the side, his fingertips grazing her as he did.

He let out a quiet breath. And then he just paused.

His eyes traced every detail, taking in how soft she looked in the light, how her breath hitched when he touched her like that, and how relaxed she'd become under his hands.

"Holy shit," he whispered, almost to himself.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

Mair's cheeks flushed. It wasn't the first time he'd said it. Not even close. But something about the way he said it now, low and awed, like she'd just knocked off his feet, made her feel it deeper.

She bit her lip, her eyes glinting with affection and a little mischief. "You always act surprised."

Austin smiled at that, the corners of his mouth curving slowly as his hands smoothed over her thighs. His lips brushed over her inner thigh, then higher.

She sighed, breath catching, hand still tangled in the back of his hair. Austin touched her like time didn't exist, like there was nothing more important than the way she sounded when he kissed just right or the way her thighs shifted slightly under his palms.

He kissed higher, whispering a soft, "Tell me if you want more," even though they both already knew the answer.

Mair's breath hitched as his mouth hovered just above her, the warmth of it making her toes curl slightl. Her hands slipped into his hair, threading through the soft, messy strands at the crown of his head. She gave a gentle tug, not to guide him, he didn't need it, but just to feel connected deeper in the moment.

"Yes," she breathed, voice featherlight but sure. "Austin, yes."

He obliged, just like he always did when it came to her. His lips moved with care, like he was speaking every unspoken word through the slow drag of his mouth and the press of his fingers at her hips.

Mair's back arched slightly. She felt a little overwhelmed by how loved she was in every move he made.

His hands anchored her as his mouth worked gently and gradually while his pace was patient and steady. He was coaxing her higher and higher with no intention of letting up. Every so often he'd glance up at her, eyes soft and dark, checking in. And every time, she looked back at him with parted lips and love written all over her face.

She whispered his name, fingers curling tighter in his hair. He hummed in response, the vibration making her gasp, then melt.

And even as her thighs trembled and she pressed closer, Austin stayed steady giving her soft kisses and featherlight strokes with his tongue like he had nowhere else to be.

He didn't stop, just kept working her over with steady devotion, tongue soft but focused, hands splayed against her waist like he never wanted to let go. She arched under his mouth, breath stuttering, but then she reached down, fingers slipping into his hair to tug gently.

"Austin," she murmured, pulling until he lifted his head.

His lips were slick, his cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. He looked wrecked like he was drunk on her.

She suddenly went a little shy under the weight of his gaze. Her chin tucked slightly, but she didn't look away.

His mouth curved. "You always get like this," he whispered, voice all warm affection. "Sweet and shy like I didn't just have you trembling a second ago."

She bit her lip, trying not to smile, and he straightened up, pressing a soft kiss just above the waistband of her panties. "I love you like this," he added. "All mine."

With delicate fingers, he hooked his thumbs into the lace and slowly slid her panties down her hips, past her thighs, and off. He kept his eyes on her the whole time.

He kissed the inside of her knee before letting his hands glide back up, settling at her hips again.

"I've been thinking about this since you stepped out in that robe last night," he murmured, voice low and reverent. "Let me keep taking care of you."

She nodded, small and breathless, her grip in his hair loosening as her hands slipped back to the sheets.

Austin took it as the only answer he needed. His hands tightened at her hips and then his mouth was on her again, this time deeper, more intent, and more sure.

The intentional strokes of before were replaced with something more feral, a rhythm that made her gasp and clutch at anything close to her.

His tongue moved with purpose, confident, and coaxing. He tilted his head just slightly, finding the angle that made her knees twitch and her breath catch in her throat.

"Fuck, Austin," she breathed, one hand flying back to his hair, tangling again.

He groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through her and making her hips jerk. He kept her where he wanted her and doubled down.

Every few seconds, he glanced up at her, his eyes dark and locked onto her face like he couldn't stand the idea of missing a single reaction. Her lashes fluttered, her lips parted, and that dazed, completely wrecked look on her face had his pulse pounding in his ears.

She was close, he could feel it. And he wasn't stopping until he got her there.

She kept mumbling sweet things to him, her voice soft and rushed between gasps, "so good," "baby," "I love you," "don't stop", and each one only drove him more, made him press his mouth deeper against her. His tongue stroking her in sure passes that built and built and built.

Her thighs trembled around his shoulders. She whimpered his name and clung to him like she'd fall apart if she didn't and then she did.

Her breath caught. Her whole body arched and then she let go completely under his tongue, her voice catching in a high, broken cry as she came. She fell back into the mattress, arms spread, chest rising and falling, bones non existent.

Austin stayed there for another heartbeat, easing her through it, kissing her tenderly until her hips stopped twitching and her body settled.

Then he began the slow journey back up, his lips dragging along her skin, kissing the inside of her thighs, her stomach, and up between her ribs. He slid his hands up her sides as he kissed a path along her sternum, her collarbone, and her neck. Her skin was warm and still humming.

She stirred beneath him, eyes fluttering open, pupils blown wide and gaze hazy. He was hovering over her now, propped on his forearms, and kissed her, finally, like it was the only thing he'd been waiting for. Soft and deep, tasting her lips like he wasn't already completely intoxicated.

"Hi," she whispered with a lazy smile when he pulled back just a little.

He brushed his nose against hers. "Hi," he murmured back, completely entranced by her.

He looked down at her, his fingers gently brushing against her neck. "Did that feel good?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. It was more a ritual than a question at this point, his way of checking in, and loving her.

Mair blinked slowly, lips curled into the softest smile. "You know it always does."

He grinned and lowered himself a little, their noses almost touching. "Even the first time?"

She huffed a quiet laugh, threading her fingers lazily through the hair at the back of his neck. "Well," she teased, "you were learning."

Austin's eyes widened in mock offense, but he was already smiling. "Damn. Just going to put me on blast like that?"

She giggled and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You know I liked that you learned with me."

His features softened again, his hand caressing her waist. "I was made for you," he said, voice low. "Every fucking part of me."

Her throat tightened a little, the words hitting her right in the center of her chest. "You always say the sweetest things after you ruin me," she whispered, brushing her lips against his.

"It's part of the service," he murmured with a smile. "Total care package."

They stayed like that for a second, tangled, skin against skin, and whispering little nothings that made their hearts ache in the best way. Mair's fingers traced along his back, nails lightly grazing up and down in slow, soothing strokes. He kissed her again and she could feel the weight of him settle over her more fully.

His lips trailed to her jaw, her neck, then lower, kissing along the lace edge of her bra, his fingers brushing lightly over the floral embroidery.

"You're obsessed with this thing," she teased, her voice warm and teasing.

"I mean..." he breathed against her chest, "can you blame me?"

He looked up at her, wordless request in his eyes. She gave a short nod, lifting her shoulders just enough for him to unhook the bra and he slid it off with care. He dropped it somewhere behind them without looking, his gaze never leaving her.

He kissed the top of one breast, then the other, slow and adoring. His hands slid up her sides, slightly tickling her.

And then she felt him. Hard and hot against the inside of her thigh, even through the fabric of his boxers.

She shifted slightly and let out the softest sigh, hips tilting just enough to brush against him. Her eyes flicked up to his.

Austin let out a slow breath. "You feel what you do to me?"

She nodded slowly, her fingers skating down his chest, a little smile on her lips. "I do."

With her impeccable timing and her absolute inability to let things stay soft and tender for too long, Mair's hand drifted down between them and pressed gently over his bulge. The moment her fingers grazed him through his boxers, Austin let out a low, involuntary sound in the back of his throat, and she smiled like she'd just won a game only she was playing.

Her hands moved upward again, smoothing over his chest, across his shoulders, and then down his back with a content hum. Her nails lightly traced the muscles, affectionate and playful. "Sooo..." she started, the tone unmistakably devious, "what else did you get me?"

Austin gave her a half amused, half warning look. "Mairead." he said slowly, his voice that familiar blend of mock-scolding and totally endeared.

She blinked up at him innocently, lips pursed, all wide eyes and feigned sweetness. "What?" she said, drawing out the word. "It's a reasonable question."

He cocked his head, fighting a grin. "You don't think maybe I've done enough already?"

"I don't know. You mentioned there was more," she said, tracing a circle on his shoulder with her fingertip. "Feels like you're trying to distract me from the gift portion of the evening."

He laughed. "You're such a fucking brat."

She gasped, placing her hand to her chest. "Me? On our anniversary?"

Austin shook his head, totally defeated by her charm and that ridiculous grin that always made his heart feel like it was folding in on itself. "I just ate you out," he said, voice low and exasperated with affection. "And you still want more?"

She nodded eagerly, eyes shining. "Mhm. I want something fancy."

"Define 'fancy,'" he said, resting his weight more comfortably on top of her, trapping her with a warm smirk.

She grinned. "Designer. Sparkly. Maybe French."

"I swear to God," he muttered, smiling so hard it hurt. Austin lowered his mouth to her ear, lips brushing just behind the shell of it. "Can I fuck you first," he murmured, voice thick with want, "then I'll let you open another gift?"

Mair let out a dramatic hmm like she was seriously considering it. She shifted beneath him, pretending to weigh her options like this was a matter of true consequence. Her fingers tapped lightly on his back as she made a show of thinking. "Well," she said slowly, eyes flicking up to meet his, "that depends."

He raised an eyebrow, hovering just above her. "On what?"

Her expression was pure mischief. "How many are there?"

Austin groaned, dragging his palm down his face, then laughing as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. "You're actually insane."

She shrugged, barely hiding her grin. "Just trying to make informed decisions."

"You're gonna feel informed in a second," he muttered into her neck, already pressing kisses there.

She bit back a smile, toes curling as her thighs subtly shifted around his hips. "Still not an answer."

He kissed his way back up to her mouth, breathing against her lips. "Three," he said, giving in.

Her brows shot up like he'd said thirty. "Three?!"

He kissed her again quick and teasing. Austin lowered his face toward hers, letting his nose brush hers, his voice was sweet like he was trying to reel her back in.

Mair's eyes flickered with mischief as she made a dramatic show of considering it. She sighed deeply, like this was a high-stakes negotiation. Her hand slid back down to rest lazily against the waistband of his boxers, her fingers just barely dipping underneath like she was testing her leverage.

"Please Mair, can I make love to you now?"

She gave a tiny shrug, teasing. "I guess if it's really important to you."