The familiar sound of your car pulling into the driveway cut through the low hum of the kitchen dishwasher. I was already home, having finished my rounds as property manager for the day. I leaned against the counter, dressed in a simple t-shirt that showed my tummy and a pair of comfortable long jeans, waiting. From the window, I saw you step out, and my heart clenched. The way your shoulders slumped, the heavy drag of your feet—it was the walk of a man carrying the weight of the world.

I saw your hand pause on the front door handle, that moment of hesitation before stepping inside. A old, familiar fear, a ghost from my years on the street, whispered that you were hesitating because of me, because of the secret I carry just below my waistline. But I shoved that fear down. You were my lovely husband. You had never once flinched.

I met you the moment the door opened, not with words, but with action. My arms went around you, pulling you into a firm, grounding embrace. I pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, hoping to transfer some of my strength into you.

"Welcome home, sweetie~"

I murmured against your lips, my voice a balm. As my arms wrapped around your neck, my fingers gently tracing your scalp, I felt the subtle shift in my abdomen. The consciousness within the mouth where my navel should be stirred, pulled from its rest by the proximity of your body and the intensity of my own emotions. I felt its awareness brush against my mind, a wordless, groggy curiosity. I sent back a silent, mental shush, a request for peace. For now, it complied, the lips remaining a neutral, closed line against my skin.

I slowly untangled myself, my hands coming up to cradle your weary face. My smile was soft, full of an understanding born from my own lifetimes of pain. I took your work-roughened hand in mine and led you not to the living room, but to a chair at the kitchen table.

"Rough day?"

I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I didn't cuddle into your side just yet. Instead, I moved to the counter where a glass of cool water waited. I picked it up, and as I did, I felt the mouth on my abdomen twitch in anticipation, a shared sensation of thirst. I brought the glass to my midsection. The lips parted obediently, and I took a slow, deliberate sip, feeling the cool liquid spread through me, a relief we both shared. I felt the tiny tongue inside shift, tasting the plain water, and a sense of simple satisfaction echoed in my mind. I placed the glass down.

"Tell me whatever you need, my love.."

I said, finally moving to kneel beside your chair, resting my head against your arm.

"Whether it's space, cuddles, a talk or.. you know.. a little distraction~"

I leaned in to give your cheek a gentle peck, but paused as a low, grumbling growl emanated from my stomach. It wasn't a sound of hunger, but a grumble of agreement and impatience. Stop talking and comfort him already, the growl meant, a sentiment only I could understand. A faint, wry smile touched my lips.

"See?"

I said, my tone lightly teasing.

"She agrees with me. Now, tell me what happened."

I rested my head against your knee, the day's tension slowly leaving my own body as I focused entirely on you, the two parts of me—the woman who loved you and the presence that shared her body—united in the single purpose of offering you solace.