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Rumi is three months pregnant and Jinu and Zoey are documenting everything for their future daughter. Jinu wants their baby to know how much he loves their mother. Mira walks in the room after a date with Abby and is completely confused about why Rumi's crying.
The living room had been transformed into something halfway between a cozy nest and a low-budget documentary set. Pillows were stacked everywhere, blankets draped over the couch like soft clouds, and sunlight filtered in through the curtains in a way that made the afternoon feel gentle and slow. Rumi sat curled into the corner of the couch, one hand resting protectively over her stomach, the other holding a tissue she hadn’t realized she’d need until about five minutes ago. At three months pregnant, her emotions came in waves—unexpected, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore—and today, for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, everything felt like a lot.
Across from her, Zoey crouched with her phone held up far too seriously for someone who kept making little sound effects under her breath. She had declared very loudly that she was “documenting history” for Rumi and Jinu’s future daughter, and nothing anyone said had been able to stop her. Jinu, for his part, seemed completely on board. He sat beside Rumi, one arm snug around her shoulders, the other occasionally gesturing toward the phone as if he were already imagining their child watching this someday.
“Okay,” Zoey whispered dramatically, even though no one had asked her to. “Day… I don’t know. Pregnancy documentary, take one million. Dad is being extra.”
Jinu smiled unabashedly. “I want her to know,” he said simply, leaning closer to Rumi and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “I want her to know how much I love her mom.”
Rumi sniffed. “You’re not allowed to say things like that,” she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying very hard not to cry again.”
Jinu laughed softly, clearly unconcerned with her protest. “Too late,” he teased gently. “You’re already crying.”
“I am not,” she insisted, even as another tear slipped down her cheek.
Zoey zoomed in immediately. “Emotional mom moment,” she whispered excitedly. “This is gold.”
“Zoey,” Rumi said weakly, not even lifting her head. “Please stop filming.”
“I can’t,” Zoey replied solemnly. “I’m going to be the best aunt. This is my duty.”
Jinu grinned at that, brushing his thumb along Rumi’s cheek to wipe away her tears. “She’s going to be spoiled,” he said. “Between you and me, she won’t stand a chance.”
Rumi let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what you’re doing right now,” she said. “I just wanted to sit quietly.”
“But you’re glowing,” Jinu replied, his tone flirty and sincere all at once. “How am I supposed to ignore that?”
She glanced up at him, eyes glassy. “You’re impossible.”
“You married me,” he reminded her, leaning in to kiss her softly. It was slow and tender, the kind of kiss that lingered just long enough to make her forget what she’d been upset about in the first place.
Zoey made a quiet gagging noise but didn’t stop filming. “Okay, but can you at least angle your faces toward the camera? Our daughter deserves good footage.”
Rumi groaned. “I’m surrounded by traitors.”
Before Jinu could reply, the front door opened, and Mira stepped inside, shrugging off her jacket. She paused almost immediately, taking in the scene: Rumi teary-eyed on the couch, Jinu hovering affectionately, Zoey crouched with a phone like a wildlife documentarian.
“…What did I walk into?” Mira asked slowly.
Zoey whipped around. “Aunt Mira!”
“Do not call me that,” Mira said automatically.
But it was oo late because Zoey was already filming her. “This is Aunt Mira,” she narrated. “She doesn’t know what’s happening, but she’s emotionally supportive in her own way.”
Mira blinked. “Why is Rumi crying?”
Rumi opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I… don’t know,” she admitted.
Jinu smiled fondly. “She’s pregnant.”
Mira stared. “I know that.”
“And emotional,” Zoey added helpfully.
Mira sighed. “Of course she is.”
She set her bag down and walked closer, crouching in front of the couch. “Rumi, are you okay?”
Rumi nodded quickly. “Yes. No. I mean—Jinu keeps talking about the baby like she’s already here, and Zoey is filming everything, and I suddenly remembered that we have to buy tiny socks.”
Mira paused. “That *is* a lot.”
Rumi sniffed again. “Right?”
Jinu squeezed her gently. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re doing great.”
She looked at him, her expression softening instantly. “You’re biased.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed. “Hopelessly.”
Zoey zoomed in on Mira again. “Say something nice for the baby.”
Mira stared at the phone. “I did not consent to this.”
“She’s already being documented,” Zoey insisted. “You can’t back out now.”
Mira exhaled through her nose, then leaned slightly closer to Rumi. “You’re going to be a good mom,” she said quietly. “Both of you are.”
Rumi’s eyes filled again. “See? This is why I’m crying.”
Jinu chuckled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Rumi’s stomach without hesitation. “Hey there,” he murmured. “It’s your dad. Just wanted you to know that your mom is incredible. And that I love her more than anything.”
Rumi covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god.”
Zoey sniffed dramatically. “I’m not crying. You’re crying.”
Mira crossed her arms. “You’re definitely crying.”
Zoey wiped her eyes and nodded. “Worth it.”
Jinu straightened and smiled at Rumi, his eyes warm and teasing. “You okay?”
She peeked at him through her fingers. “Maybe. If you stop being so sweet.”
“No promises,” he replied, leaning in to kiss her again, slower this time, his hand resting protectively over hers on her stomach.
Rumi melted into him, her earlier resistance completely gone. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said softly. “I love you too.”
Zoey lowered the phone slightly, watching them with a grin. “She’s going to grow up knowing exactly what love looks like.”
Mira shook her head, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re all ridiculous.”
“Join us,” Zoey said cheerfully, panning the camera back to Mira.
Mira sighed. “I really should’ve stayed out longer.”
But she stayed anyway, sitting down beside them as the room settled into something warm and calm. Rumi leaned into Jinu, exhausted but content, her emotions still close to the surface but no longer overwhelming. Jinu kissed her hair, Zoey kept filming with renewed purpose, and Mira watched it all with resigned fondness.
Somehow, in all the chaos and teasing and tears, it felt right.