'Have you thought about maternity leave?' He watches as the woman covers her ears, receiving an eyes roll back. 'Seriously Carla, you're getting on a bit. Being on your feet for that long, it's not good.'

'I'll think about it later.'

'You haven't got much of a later.'

'I'm 32 weeks, I've got plenty of time.'

'You don't, your job is physically demanding, and I know you're in pain.'

'No, no, I'm not.' She protests, as he pours a glass of water, taking a sip. They both know its bullshit, but she's got to stand her ground, not succumbing to weakness. That's what this is, she's been weak before, she has to be strong, strong for herself, strong for the baby she's having.

'Carla, you're shattered, you've only done a what, six-hour shift? I think you need a word with your dad.' He hints, knowing full well that both Johnny and Jenny have tried to tell her. She won't listen, there's only so much they can do.

'I'm not.' He rolls his eyes again; he feels like he's constantly rolling his eyes at the moment. There's always something she's doing that she doesn't approve of. He's barely got her to agree to get the essentials the baby is going to need. Even then, she's refusing to get certain items, in case they jinx it. He opens the fridge, grabbing the Tupperware full of the food that he made last night, he'd taken to batch cooking because there was no way that Carla would be cooking. Even if she had the energy, it wasn't something that he'd want to eat.

Whilst she'd tried, she really tried to learn to cook, she'd given up by the start of February. It was just too hard, and she was too tired.

'Can you get me some plates out?' He asks, subtly testing her, trying to prove his point.

'Where are they?' She sighs, scraping her hair into a ponytail.

'Bottom drawer, on the left.' He tells her, feeling her glare at the back of his head.

'You know I can't do that.' She accuses, walking off, 'I don't want dinner.' She tells him, as he sets the microwave timer.

This had become a common occurrence, he knew she couldn't help it, but she still had a sharp tongue and she was feeling overly sensitive. He should have presumed that this was going to set her off, as he heard the door slam.

He leaves her the ten minutes it takes to heat up the food, knowing she would have cooled down by this point, going into their dimly lit bedroom.

'Go away.' He receives as he opens the door. 'Seriously Peter.'

'Look, I'm sorry.'

'You know I can't bend down. It's not fair.'

'No, I know.'

'Why'd you do it.'

'I didn't think.'

'Yes, yes you did.'

'Look, you need to start slowing down. You're growing a baby.'

'I know I am; I have been for the last 32 weeks.'

'Now is the time to take it easy.'

'You know that's not the way I roll.'

'Maybe not, but you're a high-risk pregnancy, you need to take it easy. That starts with eating dinner.'

'It did smell good.'

'C'mon, lets go and eat. We can carry on this conversation after dinner, because I'm starving and I'm not the pregnant one.' She nods, as he helps her up from the bed, watching as she winces uncomfortably. He knew she was in a lot more pain that she let on; she just wouldn't admit.

'What shift are you on tomorrow?' She asks, as they sit at the small table, 'if you're working.'

'10-7. Are you working?' She bites her lip, nodding. She is waiting for the lecture she's about to receive, but it doesn't come.

'You not going to say anything?'

'What is there to say? You made it clear that you don't need a break, or anything. I have to accept that. After all, you are a grown woman.' She nods, feeling slightly hurt. Maybe there was some, sub-conscious, thing where she wanted Peter to disagree, to tell her she needed to stop working, someone to make that decision for her.

They continue eating in a comfortable silence, the occasional smile shared between them. 'What day is the appointment?'

'Friday, 11:15. You've got it off, right?'

'Yeah, I was just checking.'

'I really need to write my birth plan. I assume you'll be my partner.'

'Of course, I would.' He's pleased because this is the first time, she's brought this up, he'd stopped nagging a few days ago, she was being deliberately obstinate and there was only so much he could do. He was trying to take a backseat when it came to her, and her choices. But it was hard.

His concern came out of a place of love, not deliberately trying to wind her up, but he clearly mistook Carla's nerves for indifference. It wasn't that she didn't want to think about it, it was that there was a mental block on it. She just couldn't. There was something stopping her, nerves.

'I'm a bit nervous.' She confesses, as he helps her stabilise on the birthing ball she'd recently acquired, gently bouncing up and down. 'About the birth and everything else.'

'It will be fine.' He promises, trying not to dismiss her concerns. 'The baby will be fine.'

'What if she dies?'

'What?'

'Everyone I love, something seems to happen, I ruin them. Aidan, Kate.' He notes how she doesn't include their first baby, because she knows that would hit a nerve, because he was the one to ruin her, not Carla.

'You won't.'

'What if that isn't the case, what if it goes wrong.'

'It won't.'

'You don't know that.'

'Maybe not, love, but I do know that you stressing isn't going to help her.'

'See, I'm a rubbish mum already.'

'You aren't.' He watches as she winces, 'look, why don't you have a bath and relax.'

'I don't roll that way.'

'Not normally, no. You need to relax though. Don't think I haven't noticed you wincing and rubbing your bump, I've done some googling and I know that you're probably in pain, it's not just our baby girl moving, and I want to help.'

'Maybe a bath isn't a bad idea.' She smiles weakly, 'stay with me though.'

'Of course.' He promises, she shuts her eyes for a moment, whilst she hears Peter run a bath, eventually managing to get herself off of the ball, desperately trying to aid her daughter into the right position, the only thing she can do at this point.

'Thank you for this.' She whispers, stripping off and accepting a hand into the bath. 'You wanna join me?'

'No, it's fine.' She shakes her head.

'Please, please, join me.' He hums in response, joining her in the warm water, shifting behind her, as she leans into him, gently rubbing her bump.

'Baby's active tonight.'

'Hmm, you're telling me. Hopefully this will calm her down, a nice warm bath and a relaxed mum.'

'Maybe.' She muses, putting her hand over his and stroking it gently. 'You're right.' She whispers, 'I'm sorry.'

'About what?' He's at a loss as to what is actually happening, he knows that it's hard for her to admit that anyone other than her is right, but she's not sure what about this time.

'Me, me being tired and in pain.'

'Is there anything I can do?'

'Just keep rubbing my belly, it's reallyrelaxing.'

'Do you want a proper massage?' He suggests, reaching down the bottom of her bump and rubbing it gently, as she hums in response.

'Everything hurts, I'm tired all the time and I've started leaking, that's not supposed to happen until she's born.' She complains, 'I'm kinda glad you made me go shopping, I just should have brought some with me.' He listens to her sigh, continuing to rub the bottom of her bump. 'It wasn't obvious, but I was uncomfortable.'

'I know, love.'

'I really need to decide on maternity leave.'

'I know.'

'If I do,' she continues, 'it seems real and I'm not sure I can cope with that.'

'Cope with what?'

'Her being real? I guess I've managed to bury my head in the sand.'

'It's not real for you?'

'No, no.' She pauses, 'it is, but it makes it more final and so much can go wrong, I've seen from both Chelle and Maria.'

'You aren't them; our baby isn't them. By the time May ends, you and I are going to have a healthy little baby keeping us up all the hours. But you do need to slow down, whatever you think. You've managed to give up wearing heels.'

'I waddle anyway, I'm not going to waddle in heels, not if I can help it. I do miss them, though. I'm not going to become a yummy mummy.' She grins at him, 'now, I'm getting out, my hands have gone wrinkly, and you promised me a massage.'

'You've perked up?' She just shrugs.

'I feel better, I feel calmer.' She looks at him, sincerely, as she wraps a towel around her naked body. 'Thank you.'

'Hey, it's okay.' He smiles at her, pulling out the plug. 'You're doing great.'

'Am I?'

'Yes, love, yes you are.'

A/N thoughts? Whilst I was going to upload a father's day chapter, I haven't actually finished it, so you get this instead!