Moments later, the bathroom light flicked off and he emerged, carrying the coolness of the night with him. Sliding into bed beside me, he pulled the blanket over my shoulders and spoke in a coaxing tone.
"Now that you're pregnant, you should rest more. Go to sleep."
But his eyes, reflecting the pale moonlight, weren't on me. They were distant, lost in thoughts of someone else.
I lay stiffly, my back to him, pretending to sleep. The silence stretched on until he suddenly turned, his movements abrupt, his expression tense. I felt his gaze on me, searching, but I didn't move.
Eventually, he slipped out of bed. The soft creak of the door was followed by voices in the hall.
"I told you I'd come to see you tomorrow," Tristan said, his tone edged with frustration.
A woman's voice, trembling with sobs, replied, "And I told you I want to see you today. If you won't come to me, then I'll come to you. Don't you love me?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. My chest tightened as I waited for his answer, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
Finally, I heard him speak, his voice low and hoarse. "I do."
Two words. Short, simple and yet they shattered everything.