Shawn
My favorite moment of the day, without a doubt, is when night falls and Wenn and I curl up in silence in our bed, telling each other a little about our day. It's like we're keeping each other company from the future, in the moments of the past we lived separately. We laugh, reflect, and live our love—far from the chaos of sharing a house with three other guys.
But my beta-version girlfriend decided, since the night of the party—when I was kicked out of my room without appeal—that sleeping with her new best friend Vanessa was more important than sleeping with her future husband. Okay, I got upset. But seriously, they didn't even let me sleep on the floor?
Sleeping next to Zane, who kicks and tosses all night, is something I strongly recommend skipping.
And then, the cherry on top. A few days after we arrived in Melbourne, my Wenn seems to have actually been abducted, because every night she falls into a deep sleep the moment her head hits the pillow. Our nights of connection have now become nights of insomnia for me.
First I blamed the trip, then the guys, and our exhausting band routine with rehearsals, interviews, and all the social media madness. In the end, I'm starting to think something's going on between us. She cries when I say something sweet, laughs when I tell her something hard, and then cries again because she feels guilty. When I try to comfort her, she looks at me like she's judging me for even getting close. And if I don't get close, she looks at me with pain, like I'm rejecting her.
And that day at the beach, when she ran off after asking me about family… I'm more lost than ever.
Wenn
The morning after Melissa arrived at the house, I wake up with my love beside me, in his usual position: curled up on his side, facing me.
These days—or rather, these last three months, which I suspect are how long I've been pregnant—have been a rollercoaster of newness and emotion. Now that I know the truth, I understand what's happening to me with a bit more calm. But on the other hand, the anxiety I feel about telling Shawn what's going on is eating me alive.
I don't doubt his love. I doubt whether he's ready for this. I feel like every day I don't tell him, my guilt grows more and more. And as if my secret wants to remind me it's still there, very present, I feel the nausea and the unmistakable urge to throw up. I run to the bathroom, knocking over everything on my nightstand along the way.
Shawn wakes up immediately from the noise, and as soon as he realizes what's happening, he runs to my side and helps me. In good times and bad. I have to tell him soon.
Shawn gently cleans me up and tells me to take my time getting ready, that he'll handle breakfast. Just hearing those words makes my stomach growl in anticipation. He lets out a small laugh, gives me a kiss, and heads out like a soldier on a mission.
I stay behind, thinking about how lucky I am to be his fiancée. And I remember the day after the beach.
Memory
That afternoon at the beach, I gathered all the courage I could and, despite the lump in my throat, asked Shawn if he'd ever thought about having a family.
He hesitated, with that honest sparkle in his eyes that always disarms me, and finally confessed that he wasn't sure—that the future scared him. I felt the world crack a little beneath my feet and, unable to stop myself, I ran off in tears, trying to escape the answer that hurt so much.
He didn't take long to catch up. He hugged me tightly from behind, like he wanted to hold me together and keep me from falling apart completely. He didn't say anything; he just stayed with me, offering the silence I needed and letting my sobs slowly fade.
When I finally turned around, we melted into a long embrace, followed by a soft kiss that said everything without words. Shawn gently asked if I wanted to talk about it, but I just shook my head, still unable to open up completely. He didn't push. Instead, he suggested we go to our favorite ice cream shop, trying to offer me a little relief.
I ordered the strangest flavors on the menu, as if inventing a new taste could change how I felt. While I focused on not falling apart again, Shawn slipped away without warning, leaving me alone for a few minutes that felt eternal.
He came back shortly after, smiling, with a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hands. That simple, spontaneous gesture was enough to remind me how much he loves me—even in the middle of all my confusion.