THE door knob turned with a soft click, and the door swung open. Adrian stepped in, moving with his usual casual, careless air, completely ignoring the pregnant woman seated on the bed. His hands fumbled with the buttons of his crisp white shirt, the motion slow, deliberate, as though he were in a world entirely his own.
Vivian’s eyes narrowed, the sharp edge of her anger cutting through the exhaustion of the night.
“5:30, Adrian,” she said, her voice steady but icy, not once glancing at him. “You didn’t even think about us all night. What if something bad had happened?”
He turned his gaze toward her briefly, annoyance flickering in his eyes.
“Well… nothing happened to you. You are fine. And the baby is fine,” he said, shrugging, as though that settled everything.
Vivian pushed hers
