wintumn - their love.

33.

As Autumn slipped into sleep, the quiet hum of the night lulled her into a deep dream, one that took her back to the beginning—when everything had felt new and terrifying all at once.She stood in the small bathroom of their old apartment, clutching a pregnancy test in her trembling hands. The lines were faint, but unmistakable. Two lines. Positive. Autumn stared at the small plastic stick, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe it. The world seemed to tilt around her, the air thickening as her emotions swirled in every direction—fear, excitement, and something even deeper: love. A love she hadn't anticipated, one that bloomed in her chest like a flower, fragile and powerful.

Her thoughts raced, one on top of another. She wasn't ready for this. Was anyone ever ready? What kind of mother would she be? She felt a tremor of anxiety coil through her, but at the same time, a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, this was something beautiful. Something that could change everything. Autumn's hands shook as she placed the test on the counter, her mind spinning. Without a second thought, she rushed out of the bathroom, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors as she found Winter in the living room. He was sitting on the couch, reading a book, completely unaware of the seismic shift happening in their lives. The sight of him, calm and steady, brought tears to her eyes.She held the test in her hand, her fingers wrapped so tightly around it that her knuckles had turned white.

 "Winter," she whispered, her voice shaky with emotion.

He looked up, sensing something was different, something important. His eyes softened the moment he saw her face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his book forgotten as he stood up, moving toward her.

Autumn couldn't speak, the words catching in her throat. She simply handed him the test, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst. Winter took it, his brow furrowing in confusion at first, but when he saw the lines, his expression shifted. He looked at her, his eyes wide with disbelief, then slowly broke into a smile—a smile so full of love that it made her breath hitch.

"We're... we're going to have a baby," Winter whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Autumn nodded, her tears spilling over as Winter pulled her into his arms. His embrace was warm and strong, grounding her in that moment. She buried her face in his chest, letting herself cry—not out of sadness, but out of an overwhelming sense of everything all at once. Fear, yes. But also love. And hope. They were going to be parents. From that day on, she clung to him. Autumn couldn't help it. She needed Winter's presence like never before, his steadiness, his calm. Every flutter of excitement about the baby was shadowed by waves of anxiety, doubts creeping in late at night. She would wake up in the dark, feeling the weight of her own fears, and reach for him. Every time, he would pull her close, his hand gently resting on her growing belly, his whispered reassurances making everything feel possible.

The dream fast-forwarded, skipping through moments of joy and fear, and suddenly, it was the week of Harlow's birth. Autumn was in the hospital, her body consumed by waves of pain as the contractions hit harder and harder. She was exhausted, her strength almost gone, and yet the journey had only just begun. The sterile smell of the hospital room, the beeping of machines, the encouraging but urgent voices of the doctors—it was all a blur. All she could focus on was Winter's hand gripping hers, the look of worry etched into his face.

"I can't do this," Autumn gasped through the pain, her body trembling with exhaustion. "Winter, I can't..."