The clock ticked and tocked and ticked and tocked.
The ceiling stayed totally still, yet somehow it also felt like it was turning.
The covers were off a while ago, and not just because she was hogging them.
Milo Murphy didn’t blink (as ever) as he stared at the ceiling, waiting for it to break.
He didn’t flinch as he waited for something terrible to crash in through the wall.
He didn’t waver as he waited for something horrible to befall.
He was used to looking out for trouble.
But it was oh so different with a wife.
Not that Amanda couldn’t take care of herself.
She could do anything.
…It was he who couldn’t.
His fears of Murphy’s Law had settled after the spike when they started dating, but old habits die hard.
What was once such a great adventure now felt like a horrible burden.
The floor was cold.
He might get a cold.
Watching the door with never ending vigilance, Milo Murphy made sure his love was safe.
He breathed slowly and clearly, counting from 1 to infinity.
His eyes never blinked.
His soul never wavered.
His spirit never sagged.
There was only his wife.
There was nothing else.
He couldn’t let her…
Let them get hurt.
“How did Dad handle this?”, he wondered, as he felt another pang of pain and fear in his chest.
It had been 3 months since the couple found out they were expecting.
It had been 3 months since Milo slept for a moment.
Happy birthday, man! Sorry this one is very short, but the idea stuck with me and it didn't feel like it needed to be longer!