🌙 3:07 A.M.
The nursery light was still on.
Briar had given up pretending she was going to bed early. The crib was half built. A box of diapers leaned against the wall. The faint smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air.
She was exhausted.
When the knock came, it shook the thin trailer door.
She almost didn’t answer.
Almost.
When she opened it, Devon stood there looking like he had unraveled completely.
“I can’t stay there,” he said. “I just needed to see you.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t comfort him.
“Couch. A couple days.”
He stepped inside.
And then he saw her.
Not hiding under oversized clothes. Not shielding herself.
She was wearing a simple sports bra and soft grey lounge pants, the waistband stretched comfortably beneath the full curve of her belly. There was no mistaking it now. No denying it. Her stomach was round and heavy, skin taut, life undeniable beneath it.
She didn’t cover herself.
If anything, she stood straighter.
His eyes softened instantly.
“You’re… really showing,” he breathed.
“That happens,” she said quietly.
There was a long pause. Thick. Charged.
His gaze dropped again, lingering on the movement beneath her skin.
“Can I…?” he asked gently.
This time she didn’t hesitate.
She stepped closer and took his hand, placing it flat against her belly.
Warm.
Solid.
Real.
The baby shifted almost immediately.
Devon’s breath caught.
“Was that—?”
“She’s been kicking all week,” Briar said softly.
He swallowed hard.
He lowered himself slowly, both hands now cradling the sides of her stomach like something sacred. Careful. Almost reverent.
Another kick.
Stronger this time.
Devon let out a shaky laugh that sounded dangerously close to breaking.
“Hey,” he whispered, pressing his forehead gently against her belly. “It’s me.”
Briar watched him — really watched him.
For the first time since she told him, he didn’t look like a man trying to escape.
He looked like a father.
And that terrified her more than when he panicked.
Because this moment?
This softness?
This illusion of a family at 3 a.m. in a trailer with unfinished nursery walls?
It could ruin her.
Hope has always been Briar’s most dangerous habit.
And right now, she could feel it kicking just as strong as the baby.
