"I've got to head out for a meeting with a client," he said, placing a lunchbox on her desk. His eyes met hers, steady and unwavering. "I'll be back in two hours. Make sure you eat your lunch, okay?"
Esme raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the domestic insistence. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossing loosely over her chest as a smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Oh my God," she teased, tilting her head to the side. "Is my husband actually worried about me?"
Ray paused for a second, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. His gaze sharpened, eyes locking onto hers with that intensity she had grown used to but never quite fully understood. Then he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a lower, almost intimate tone. "Worried?" He let out a short, humorless chuckle, but the tension didn't leave his face. "No, Esme. I just don't want you keeling over before our child is even born."
