Invisible String

6

“You are, which is why I’m allowed to hover,” he called from the kitchen. A second later, he came back with a small bowl of sliced strawberries and a smug grin.

I narrowed my eyes but took the bowl anyway. “You’re lucky these actually sound good.”

He sat beside me, pulling my legs over his lap like he always did. “I know,” he said, kissing my knee. “Also, you’re glowing. Which is a thing I didn’t believe was real until right now.”

I rolled my eyes, even though my heart melted a little. “You’re cheesy.”

“And you’re pregnant. So you don’t get to make fun of me for trying to be sweet.”

We sat in silence for a second before I nudged him with my foot. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I think she likes strawberries too.”

He looked down at my belly, then back up at me. “Good. We’ll keep her on team strawberry and not team… whatever weird craving is coming next.”

I grinned. “You say that now. Just wait until I want ice cream with pickles or something.”

Travis groaned dramatically. “Lord help me.”

“Lord help us, ” I corrected, laughing. “We’re in this together, remember?”

He looked at me with that quiet, soft look he only gets when it’s just us, and he nodded. “Always.”

I shifted on the couch, the empty strawberry bowl resting on top of my bump like some sort of weird balancing act. My hand instinctively rubbed over it, slow circles, the way I did when I was thinking too hard.

“You think she can hear us yet?” I asked, glancing over at Travis.

He looked up from his phone. “I think so? I read that around sixteen weeks babies start picking up sounds. So yeah—she’s probably already tired of me talking.”

I laughed, leaning my head back. “Well, she better get used to that. You’re loud.”

“You love my voice,” he teased, walking over and nudging his face into the side of my neck. “So she will too.”

There was a pause, and then I asked softly, “Do you think she’ll like music?”

Travis pulled back a little and looked at me, hand instinctively finding its way to my belly. “Like… your music?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s just… weird. Thinking she might already be hearing me when I hum something or sing in the kitchen. That maybe she’s hearing me without me even realizing it.”

“She’s gonna love it,” he said without hesitation. “Your voice is the first lullaby she’ll ever hear. You’re already her favorite sound.”

I blinked fast, my throat tightening in that annoying, hormonal way. “Ugh, you’re gonna make me cry and I literally just cleaned this couch.”

He smiled and gently wiped under my eye with his thumb. “Cry all you want, mama. We already survived the Subway meltdown. What’s a few tears?”

I let out a choked laugh and leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Okay, but if I start full-on sobbing when you sing to her later, you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“I’d never,” he said sweetly, kissing my forehead. “But if you start sobbing because I don’t sing in tune… that’s fair game.”

I elbowed him gently. “Fair.”

For a moment, everything felt quiet. Not in the empty kind of way, but in the full, peaceful kind. The kind of quiet you dream about for years and don’t even realize it until you’re living in it.