As we entered one of the bedrooms, the atmosphere shifted almost immediately. The room was quiet, warm, and dimly lit, the kind of place that made you instinctively lower your voice even when there was no reason to. I had barely taken two steps inside when I felt arms snake around my waist from behind, soft yet firm, as if she was afraid I might disappear if she loosened her grip even a little.
Vera pressed her body against my back, her cheek resting between my shoulder blades. Her hands locked together over my stomach, her fingers trembling faintly. Then, in a voice so low it almost blended into the silence, she muttered, "I love you."
The words hit me harder than I expected. I reached down, placing my hands over hers, squeezing gently. "I love you too," I said without hesitation. "And you really shouldn't be stressing yourself this much. You just gave birth. You need to rest."
