The morning sun was gentle that day. It slipped through the curtains in quiet streams, drawing golden lines across the bed like careful brushstrokes. Samuel lay still for a while, his arms wrapped securely around Stephanie. Her breathing was slow, even—her body radiating warmth against his chest. Last night's tenderness hadn't faded; it lingered like the echo of a song that refuses to leave a quiet room.
He breathed her in, the faint scent of her hair mixing with the freshness of the sheets. A peace he couldn't remember feeling in years held him there, urging him to stay in that moment. But his gaze eventually slid to the wall clock. The numbers startled him.
"Ah—damn, it's past seven already," he muttered under his breath, careful not to jolt her awake.
Reluctantly, he eased his arm from under her, moving slowly so the bed wouldn't shift too much. He reached for a towel and disappeared into the bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of rushing water filled the room.
Stephanie stirred beneath the covers, her lashes fluttering open. She turned her head just enough to see him through the slightly open bathroom door. Watching him hurry about brought an unexpected warmth to her chest, and a small smile curved her lips. He looked… lighter, as though some invisible weight had been lifted from him.
When Samuel stepped back into the bedroom—hair damp, towel around his neck, humming softly—he seemed almost like another man. His energy carried a brightness she hadn't seen before.
"Someone's in a good mood," she teased, her voice still heavy with sleep.
He grinned at her, the expression boyish and open. "Best sleep I've had in forever."
She smirked and pulled the blanket closer, letting her eyes linger on him as he moved.
"You can stay in bed all day if you want," he offered, flipping through his wardrobe. "Seriously. Just rest."
But as he tucked his shirt into his jeans and reached for his belt, Stephanie slowly pushed off the blanket and swung her legs to the floor.
"I'll just tidy up a little," she murmured.
Their eyes met briefly. No big declarations. No promises. Just a quiet understanding, a thread between them that words didn't need to touch.
Within minutes, she was folding the blanket and gathering clothes from the floor while he buttoned his shirt and grabbed his keys. Before leaving, Samuel stepped over to her, sliding his arms around her waist.
"Don't worry. Everything's gonna be fine," he whispered. "Just take care of yourself today. When I'm back, we'll talk—really talk—about your pregnancy. Maybe get you registered at a hospital."
Her voice was soft, but weighted with meaning. "Thank you… for everything."
They kissed—slow and unhurried, holding on to each other like they were afraid of letting go.
At the door, Samuel glanced back. "Text me if you need anything, okay?"
Stephanie nodded, and the door clicked shut, leaving her in the quiet hum of the morning.
---
The pizza restaurant was already alive with the day's rhythm when Samuel arrived. The ovens glowed like watchful suns, trays of dough lined the counters, and Simon was elbow-deep in flour, his hands moving with the practiced speed of someone who had repeated the same motion a thousand times.
"You're late, boss," Simon called, raising an eyebrow. Then, smirking, he added, "And way too happy for this hour."
Samuel ignored the jab, moving from station to station—checking dough, tapping sauce containers, even swaying a little to a rhythm in his head.
Simon's smirk faded into suspicion. "Alright, what's going on? You look like a guy who just won the lottery… or got laid."
Samuel chuckled under his breath. "You always catch on quick."
"Spill."
Leaning against the counter, Samuel wiped his hands on a towel. "It's Stephanie."
Simon frowned. "What about her? She leave?"
Samuel shook his head. "No. I love her."
Simon froze mid-motion. "Wait. What?"
"I'm in love with her," Samuel said plainly. "I want her to be mine."
Simon blinked, his voice turning sharp. "You're falling for a pregnant girl? With someone else's baby? Don't tell me you—"
"Yeah," Samuel cut in. "I have."
Simon slapped the counter, flour scattering into the air. "Bro! Are you serious right now? This isn't like you. You don't owe her more than a safe place and some help. But this? You're crossing into dangerous territory."
Samuel's tone stayed even. "She's not just some random girl. She's been through hell, and she's still gentle. Brave. I see her. And I care."
Simon let out a harsh breath, pacing between the counter and the ovens. "Look, I'm not saying she's bad. But you? You're young. You've got a thriving business. Women literally line up to get your attention—and you're choosing someone who's already carrying another man's baggage?"
Samuel's hands moved over the dough again, steady and firm. "I didn't choose her. Life brought her to me. And I'm not walking away because things aren't perfect."
The kitchen fell into a silence broken only by the soft thud of dough and the steady hum of the ovens.
Finally, Simon muttered, "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
---
Back at the apartment, Stephanie had busied herself with cleaning—folding laundry, wiping down the dresser, tidying the couch cushions. The scent of Samuel's cologne lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the lavender freshness he seemed to favor. It was comforting, almost too much so, because it made her wish the rest of her life felt this safe.
But deep inside, the heaviness remained.
She sat on the edge of the bed with her phone in hand, staring at Victoria's contact. Her thumb hovered over the screen. For a long time, she didn't move. Finally, she pressed "Call."
The line barely rang twice.
"Hey," Victoria answered, her voice soft.
"Hi," Stephanie said, the word catching in her throat. "I think… I'm ready. To see the abortion specialist."
A pause hung between them.
"Are you sure?" Victoria asked gently. "We only talked about it yesterday. You don't have to decide right now."
Stephanie's voice trembled, but she steadied it. "I just… need to stop feeling trapped. I need some kind of closure."
Victoria was quiet for a moment before answering. "Okay. If you're sure, I'll take you."
"I'm sure," Stephanie repeated, though even as she said it, her chest tightened.
When the call ended, the silence of the apartment felt heavier than before. She could still feel Samuel's presence in the sheets, his warmth in her memory, but it wasn't enough to silence the storm inside her.
---
By afternoon, she was sitting across from Victoria in the calm stillness of her friend's apartment. The faint aroma of lavender and burning incense hung in the air. Outside, the muted hum of traffic drifted through the slightly open window.
Stephanie's hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her fingers twisting together in nervous knots. She looked up at Victoria, her voice barely above a whisper. "Have you done it before? Is it painful? Just… tell me what it's like."
Victoria leaned back, her tone matter-of-fact. "Steph, don't make it sound like you're walking into a death sentence. We're going to see a doctor. He'll explain it better than I can."
Stephanie bit her lip. "I'm just… scared. I've read things. Some say it hurts a lot. Some say people… die."
Something in Victoria's expression softened. Despite their closeness in age, she had always carried herself with a kind of older-sister authority.
"Look," she said, her voice quieter now. "You're not going to die. The guy we're seeing—he's good. His method's clean. Not much pain."
Stephanie blinked. "Wait… you've been there before?"
Victoria hesitated, her eyes shifting away for a moment. "Yeah. Twice."
"Twice?" Stephanie's voice was tinged with shock.
Victoria nodded slowly. "Different reasons. Different times. But I survived. You will too. Just… be sure it's what you want."
Stephanie didn't answer right away. Her gaze dropped to her hands, her mind swirling. Because the truth she couldn't speak—not even to Victoria—was that she wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Not about the baby. Not about herself.
And definitely not about what Samuel would think if he knew.
But the clock was ticking, and she could feel that the next few hours might change everything.