35. Breaking the rules

We spend every day together. Yet we don’t talk about anything that actually matters.

He already bought the plane ticket. To go back home. Just thinking about it makes my chest ache.

He asked me to go with him. I said no. Because I don’t want to fall into the same pattern again.

I’ve been there before. I know how it goes. And I don’t believe this time would be any different.
So I stay. I tell myself it’s the right thing to do. That maybe some space will fix what we can’t seem to say out loud.

“Here, I made you some tea. Chamomile.”
His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
I take the mug from him. “Thanks. Did you finish packing?”
He nods, sipping his coffee.

“When will you be back?”
He looks down at me. “A few days. Maybe. I’m not really sure yet.” A small, uncertain smile forms on his lips. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“Bill, we already talked about this.”
“I know.” He takes another sip, watching me over the rim of his cup. “Can’t blame me for trying one last time, right?”
“I guess not.”

“I’ll come back as soon as I can. And then…” He hesitates. “Then we start on the baby’s room.”

“The baby’s room?” I turn toward him. “And where exactly are we going to make that room?”
He slides his hand into my hair, his palm warm against the back of my head.

And for the first time in months, I see the Bill I remember. The one with that unmistakable presence, the quiet gravity that made people turn their heads when he entered a room, not because he demanded attention, but because he didn’t have to.

He leans into me, pressing a soft kiss on my lips.
“Wherever you want it to be.”

I smile. I don’t even know where I want that room to be. And if I’m honest, I don’t want to think about it right now.


The rest of the evening passes in a strange blur. Too fast and too slow at the same time. We eat dinner. We watch a movie neither of us is really paying attention to.

Until it’s time to go to bed. Time to say goodbye.

We stand in the hallway for a moment, both lingering. We share one last kiss. Then I watch him walk away into the guest room.

I go to my own room and lie down, but sleep won’t come. I keep turning, my mind stuck on only him.

He’s leaving in a few hours. And I don’t want our last night to be spent in separate rooms, pretending everything is fine.

I sit up.
Before I can overthink it, I step into the hallway and walk to the guest room.

My hand rests on the doorknob. I hesitate.
Something feels off. Like if I let him leave like this, I might regret it.
Like this might be the last time.
I know that’s not true. But the feeling won’t go away.

So I open the door.
The room is dark, but I can see his silhouette. He’s lying on his back, one arm tucked under his head.
He’s awake.

“Hey,” he whispers.
I swallow. “Hey.”
He pushes himself up slightly, looking at me. “You okay?”

I shake my head as I step inside, closing the door behind me. “Not really.”
He shifts without hesitation, making space for me.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a second before moving closer, settling beside him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly.

I don’t answer.
Because if I do… I might actually have to talk.

Instead, I draw him closer, my hands gripping his shirt. And I kiss him.

As if he was expecting it, he kisses me back.

I pull him on top of me, wrapping my legs around him. His hand slides down my waist, stopping at the waistband of my underwear.
“Is it safe?” he whispers. “For the baby?”
“Yes,” I whisper back. “It’s safe.”

His forehead drops to my shoulder. His hand stays where it is, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of my shirt.

He lifts it slowly, pressing a soft kiss against my skin. I close my eyes, breathing out.
He pulls the shirt over my head, his fingers brushing along my arms before letting it fall away.

His hand returns to my waist. He leans down again, kissing just below my collarbone, softer this time.
His touch drifts lower, hesitant.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, pulling it down carefully.

I reach for him in return, pulling his boxers down.
“Are you sure it won’t harm the baby?” he asks again, lifting himself slightly.
“Yes. I’m sure.” I press a kiss to his shoulder.

He exhales, but I can still feel the tension in him.
“It’s just… I don’t want to do anything wrong.”
I cup his cheek, guiding him to look at me. “You won’t. You’re not going to hurt me. Or the baby. Okay?”

He nods, but his body is still tense.
So I shift.
I press my hands against his chest and gently guide him onto his back.
“Evi…” he starts.
“Sshh.” I kiss him softly. “Just relax.”

I lace my fingers with his, squeezing gently.
And when I kiss him again, there’s less hesitation in the way he kisses me back.

His hands tighten slightly around mine and I can feel the tension in his body start to fade.

I let go of his hands, rest one hand on his chest and using the other one to guide him inside me. A soft sound escapes both of us as we finally come together.

At first he’s careful, but then he starts to follow my rhythm. His hands find my waist again, holding me more firmly now.
They slide to my hips, guiding me with every move.

“I love you,” I whisper against his ear. “I love you, Bill.”

“I love you too,” he murmurs.
I rest my forehead against his, brushing my nose lightly against his as I keep moving with him.

His breathing deepens, then turns uneven. I feel the shift in him, the tension building again, but different this time.

“Evi…” he whispers, his grip tightening.

I keep the same rhythm and his breath catches.
A soft broken exhale leaves him as his hands pull me closer, holding me tightly against him.

The sudden closeness makes my breath hitch.
My movement falters for a second, my forehead pressing tighter against his as something shifts inside me.
“Bill,” I gasp softly, my fingers tightening in his hair.

I cling to him as it washes through me, my breath breaking, my body tightening against his. My face buries against his neck, holding on as the feeling lingers, soft but overwhelming in its own way.