Chapter 19
Jul 18, 2025
Emery’s POV
A single minute felt stretched into an hour. Landon had been working on the kitchen faucet for what seemed like forever, but maybe it only felt that long because I’d been watching him the entire time.
There was something about the quiet focus in the way he crouched by the sink, the way his hands moved with practiced ease, even if I wasn’t used to seeing that side of him.
After a few more minutes, he stood up and gave the handle a twist. The drip stopped. A clean, steady stream of water flowed from the spout, steady and calm.
He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands, then started packing up his tools. When he glanced at me, his expression was guarded but soft. “All done. Shouldn’t be dripping anymore.”
“Thanks,” I said, meaning it.
He hesitated, not quite meeting my eyes. “If you ever need anything,” he said quietly, “I’m close.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
A silence settled between us, thick but not uncomfortable. Eventually, he spoke again. “I should get going.”
He started toward the door, but something stopped me. I called out, “Wait.”
He turned back, brows slightly raised. “Do you need something else?”
I knew I should let him leave after fixing the faucet, but it felt wrong to just let him go without giving something back. I paused for a moment, then asked, “Are you hungry?”
His brows lifted a little more, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Why? Inviting me to dinner?”
I rolled my eyes. “Think of it as payment for your plumbing skills.”
He smirked. “Can I accept a kiss instead?”
My brow shot up in surprise. “What did you say?”
He shook his head like trying to erase the words. “Nothing. I’ll accept my wife’s offer anyway.”
I headed to the kitchen, grabbed two bowls, and reheated the leftover soup from lunch. I set it on the table with some crackers and apple slices.
It wasn’t anything fancy, but it felt… normal.
We sat across from each other, the quiet only broken by the sound of spoons clinking and soft sips.
Between bites, he looked up and asked, “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Whether my baby-”
“Our baby,” he interrupted softly.
I rolled my eyes but let it slide with a sigh. “As I was saying, it doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl. I will love my child-”
“Our child,” he interrupted again, almost with a grin this time.
I scoffed but smiled faintly. “But I think our baby likes music. They always move when I play something.”
He smiled back, a little more genuine now. “What kind of music?”
“Old stuff. Jazz, Motown. I played Marvin Gaye the other night, and they wouldn’t stop kicking.”
He chuckled, a sound that felt easy and real. “They’ve got good taste.”
We kept eating, and not much else needed to be said. After dinner, I stood up to clear the table, but a sudden sharp nudge inside me made me pause. Another kick, stronger this time.
“Wow,” I murmured, pressing my hand lightly over my belly.
He stood as well, concern knitting his brow. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking at him. “They’re just really active tonight.” I hesitated for a second, then took his hand and placed it gently where the baby was moving.
“Here,” I said. “Feel that?”
His eyes held mine for a moment before he lowered his palm carefully, spreading his fingers over my belly. When the baby kicked again, Landon’s face changed completely.
Relief washed over him, mixed with pride and maybe even a quiet kind of joy.
“That’s…” he whispered, leaning in closer. “That’s our baby.”
He knelt slightly, pressing his ear against my stomach as if he could listen to every little movement. Another kick, and he laughed softly, almost afraid to break the magic.
“They’re real,” he said, voice low. “So real.”
I didn’t say anything. I just watched him. He stayed there for a few more seconds, his hand still resting gently over mine. When he finally looked up, his eyes were glassy and a little distant.
“I missed so much,” he said quietly.
We stood there in silence, the soft hum of the fridge filling the room. He didn’t ask for more, and I didn’t offer it. But I didn’t pull away either. For tonight, that was enough.
