Then Sofia kicked again.
Both of them laughed.
Marcus placed his hand over Elena’s stomach.
“You hear that?”
Elena smiled.
“She’s impatient.”
“She’s got your personality.”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s already arguing.”
Elena laughed.
The sound filled the room.
Marcus looked at his wife.
The swollen feet.
The tired eyes.
The belly carrying their daughter.
And he realized something.
For months, he had been focused on becoming a father.
Buying the crib.
Painting the nursery.
Saving money.
Working overtime.
Preparing for the hospital.
But becoming a father wasn’t only about protecting Sofia after she was born.
It had already begun.
It meant protecting the mother carrying her.
It meant noticing when Elena said “I’m fine” even though she wasn’t.
It meant understanding that sometimes the person who needed protection wasn’t the loudest person in the room.
Sometimes it was the quiet one standing at the sink.
The one saying, “It’s okay.”
The one apologizing for being tired.
The one trying to keep everyone happy while quietly falling apart.
That night changed Marcus.
Not because he suddenly hated his family.
He didn’t.
He still loved his mother.
He still loved his brother and sister.
But he finally understood that love without boundaries could become another form of harm.
