Zane left just after eight.
Willow was still asleep, curled carefully on her side, one hand resting over the curve of her abdomen as if her body remembered protecting something even now. Her breathing was slow and even, deeper than it had been in days. The pain medication had finally done its job. The night had been kind to her in a way mornings rarely were.
He stood in the doorway longer than necessary, watching her.
Not memorizing her. He already carried her everywhere.
The way her brow softened in sleep. The way her mouth parted slightly when she exhaled. The way her body trusted the space beside him enough to let go. That trust hit him harder than fear ever had.
He moved quietly through the suite, dressing without turning on the lights, every motion deliberate. On the counter beside the coffee machine, he left a folded note.
Had to step out. Back soon.
Don't rush. I'll be right back.
He hesitated, pen hovering.
Then he added one more line.
