Page 80 of Connor

Because for the first time in as long as I could remember, I didn’t need an escape.

I wanted to be awake. I wanted to be here.

I lay beside her, my body half-draped over hers, my fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along the inside of her arm. The apartment was quiet, warm, dimly lit by the soft glow of the streetlights outside. It had rained earlier, and I could still hear the occasional drop against the window, steady and rhythmic.

Summer was curled against me, her body soft, warm, familiar. She was barely awake, her breath even, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. My hand drifted to her stomach, fingertips brushing the soft curve that had grown over the past few months. It wasn’t just a bump anymore. It was undeniable.

Everything about her had changed, and yet, she was still Summer. Still the same sharp-tongued, impossible girl I’d loved for years before I even realized it.

Loved.

The word still sat heavy in my chest, but it wasn’t the kind of weight that dragged me down. It was the kind that grounded me. The kind that made me feel whole.

She shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh as she pressed a sleepy hand to her stomach. And then—

I felt it.

A kick.

Soft, but real.

Everything inside me stilled.

My pulse fucking stuttered.

I pressed my palm flat against her belly, waiting, holding my breath.

And then—there it was again.

I knew this was real. I’d known for months. I’d seen the sonograms, heard the heartbeat, watched her body change. But this?

This was different.

This wasn’t an abstract idea. Wasn’t just some distant future I couldn’t wrap my head around.

This was our baby. Moving. Alive. Right here, beneath my hands.

I hadn’t even realized I said it out loud until the words left my mouth.

"I love you both."

The second they were out, I froze.

I hadn’t planned on saying it. Hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t second-guessed it. It had just… happened. Slipped from my lips like it had always been there, waiting for the right moment.

Summer stilled.

I knew she’d been waiting. Waiting for me to say it. Waiting for something more than just promises and good intentions. Waiting for me to stop holding back.

Slowly, she tilted her head to look at me. Her eyes were wide, searching, like she was waiting for me to take it back. Like she wasn’t sure she could trust it. I didn’t take it back. I just pressed my hand more firmly against her stomach, grounding myself. Grounding her.

"I mean it, Summer."

Her breath hitched.

Her fingers curled around my wrist, holding me there, keeping me close.

And then— She smiled. It was small. Barely there. But fuck, it was real. And I saw it. I felt it. She believed me. For the first time since this all started, she really believed me. And that?

That was everything.

THE END

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