"I think my clothes are getting tight again," Amelie murmured, adjusting the modest dress that hugged her gently around the growing belly.
Gabriel turned his head and walked over, stopping just before her. His eyes softened as they trailed to where her hand rested over the slight curve. "Looks like Noa wants more space already," he said with a small smile, his voice almost playful. Then, more seriously, he added, "Tight clothes aren't ideal. I'll ask someone to bring you more comfortable ones."
Amelie sighed gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not that bad. I can manage. Really." Her tone hinted that she didn't want to be left behind.
Gabriel studied her for a moment, catching that flicker of hope in her expression. "Amelie," he said gently, "I don't want you to feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable. You and Noa come first."
