Each morning, before leaving for work, she would gently massage Ray's feet, kneading the tense muscles with a tenderness that only deepened her bond with him.
She'd trace gentle circles into his skin, easing the aches and soothing him back into a relaxed state. And every night before bed, she'd repeat the massage, not minding how tired she was or how little sleep she would end up getting. It was all worth it to see Ray's face soften, his breathing steadying as the pain ebbed away, and a small, grateful smile gracing his lips.
In these simple acts, Esme found a new purpose. The love she poured into these moments became a balm for her own fears, a quiet assurance that, together, they would protect this delicate, precious life. It wasn't just for the baby, or even for Ray—these small, caring rituals wove their lives closer together, grounding her in a love she hadn't expected but had now become the center of her world.
