The Watch

Esme pads barefoot to the farmhouse window where Adil stands watch, his silhouette sharp against the moonlit fields, and she slides her arms around him from behind, her belly pressing against his back. He turns, his hands finding her hips, and she sees the exhaustion in his eyes—the weight of every road they've fled. 'I need you,' she says, her voice raw, and she takes his hand, guiding it under her shift to the warm swell of her stomach. He exhales, a broken sound, and lifts her onto the windowsill, her legs wrapping around him as he kisses her, desperate and slow, the twins fluttering between them. Outside, a branch snaps, and they freeze, but it's only the wind—and she pulls him closer, refusing to let fear steal this moment too.