Nate temporarily moves out.

Yet, Cassie finds herself struggling much more than him.

Despite Cassie asking—no, begging him—for space, Nate seems to completely misinterpret her request. Sure, he sleeps at his mother's house, but spends every other moment at their home, attempting to make up for his absence with gifts and gestures. Between sporadic plans, he's there—doting on his son, trying to convince Cassie to forgive him.

But she finds his constant presence suffocating.

She hates the constant stream of gifts.

On the first day, he brings the largest bouquet of flowers he can find.

On the second day, it's the Louis Vuitton bag he knows Cassie's been eyeing for months, the one she wanted as a diaper bag.

By the third day, it's dinner from her favorite restaurant.

Nate does what he knows best: tries to buy back her love.

Sadly, the gifts do nothing to fix their relationship. Cassie knows all too well what he's doing—his manipulations, his sweet but empty affection, the expensive presents meant to fill the silence between them.

"Nate, stop. Okay? I just need a little time…" she pleads, after another over-the-top gesture. "Please, just give me some time."

But Nate doesn't know this version of Cassie—the one who sets boundaries, the one who refuses to fall for his displays of affection, the one who makes him work for her love.

"I'm sorry. I love you." He repeats it over and over again, like a broken record—when he walks in the door, when he's passing through, when he leaves, and countless texts throughout the day. "What do I need to do to prove this to you?"

"Just give me some time, please," she says every time, trying to keep some distance between them, trying to keep herself from breaking.

When Nate sees his loving strategy failing, he spirals, he turns the tables on her, trying to make her feel guilty.

"If you don't love me anymore, if you don't want to be with me," he says bitterly after yet another rejection, "just tell me, Cassie. Just tell me now."

But despite the weight of his words, Cassie doesn't let his emotional manipulation force her to forgive him—not yet, anyway.

It was typical of him to manipulate affection to achieve his desires- withholding it as a form of punishment, or bombarding her with it to gain her forgiveness.

She finds herself struggling to navigate her own feelings, torn between what she wants and what is best. At a crossroads in her relationship, but with her in the driver's seat.

It's doesn't help that throughout the week Cassie feels as though her body is shutting down. She can barely keep her eyes open, let alone stomach any food. Every muscle in her body aches, and every breath feels like a battle. It's hard to say if it's the stress of her failing marriage, the trauma of rushing Harvey to the ER, or simply the exhaustion catching up with her.

One thing is clear: try as she might to hide it, people around her notice.

"You need to eat something," Suze says, offering food that Cassie can't bring herself to swallow. "You look awful."

She feels awful, too. But the thought of food makes her stomach twist.

"You need to try to sleep more," Marsha urges, watching Cassie struggle to keep her eyes open as she nurses.

She could hardly sleep, between night feeds, running thoughts and endless tears (her's more than Harvey's), she barely slept more than a few hours a night.

"I'm fine," she reassures them, her voice unconvincing. "I just need some rest, that's all."

Having Nate around feels like walking a tightrope.

She isn't sure what their next move will be—whether to try and move on or move apart.

Day after day, she watches Nate be the perfect father, more present than he's ever been in their entire relationship. He makes the most of his time with Harvey before he has to return to Marsha's, where he's been staying until they figure things out.

And the moment Harvey is asleep for the night, Nate pleads with her to let him back in.

For the first time, Cassie feels a shift of power between them. Nate, who had always controlled their relationship—set the pace, made the decisions, and made her grovel—is now the one at her mercy. She wonders how long this false sense of power will last.

She's not naive.

Eventually, Nate will stop being so accommodating.

The house she lives in belongs to Nate's family. The clothes she wears, the food she eats—all bought with his money. She has no income, no savings, and no place of her own.

How long could she keep him out of his own home?

And then there's Harvey—her son, their son. Nate would never let her take him away from him.

Cassie is bound to Nate in ways she can't easily escape. She's bound to him in more ways than he will ever be bound to her. Her existence is chained to him.

The mere thought of leaving Nate terrifies her—what would become of her if she walked away now?

Sure, her mom could help her financially, give her a roof over her head while she figured things out. She could get a job, maybe even go to college, and try to rebuild her life with Harvey. But would she be able to admit that she failed in building the family she always dreamed of?

More to the point, would Nate ever let her leave?

"You deserve so much more than what he's able to give you," Gemma had told her one night, after bringing over charcuterie and unsolicited advice.

"I don't think I could ever love anyone like I love him…"

"Do you think he could ever love you as much as you love the idea of him?" Gemma's question hits her like a punch.

Silence is her answer.

"Just remember, someone's potential isn't who they really are."

Gemma's words linger in her mind, leaving a cloud of doubt hanging over her.

"Do you think he could ever love you as much as you love the idea of him?" The question echoes, reverberating through her chest, lodging itself in the deepest corners of her mind. It stirs something within her—something dark, something she's been too afraid to face.

It's the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, she's been holding on to an idea of Nate that never truly existed.

Despite this turmoil, despite the gnawing uncertainty that eats at her from the inside, her love for him is undeniable. It's a love that's both suffocating and beautiful, fiercely protective yet fragile, all tangled up in the wreckage of their relationship. She can't seem to escape it, no matter how hard she tries to shut it out.

She tries to make herself immune to his love and affection, no matter how hard.

Then, one night, they cross that line. It wasn't planned, it wasn't wanted—it simply happens.

They fuck.

The argument they've been having is loud and sharp, their words cutting through the tension thick in the air. But in the midst of it, in a desperate, uncontrolled moment, they collide. He's over her, pushing her up against the cold surface of the kitchen island, his hands everywhere.

The intimacy of it is brutal, raw—there's no tenderness, no softness, only the searing heat of need and frustration. It's almost violent, the way their bodies crash together, and yet, it's somehow impossible to stop. His hands bruise her skin, his mouth marks her like a claim, and she scratches at him, desperate to hold on, to feel something—anything—that doesn't hurt.

Her hips bruise from hitting against the counter over and over again.

The things he whispers in her ear are filthy, as he fucks her brains out.

"You think someone else is ever going to fuck you like I do?"

His words still ring in her ears—possessive, demanding, cruel.

She hates how smug he is and she hates how weak she is for him.

Take everything of mine, she thinks, make every inch of my being yours.

"Leave." she breathes out, her voice raw, right after he cums on her back.

But even as she pushes him out, her heart is still tangled in the mess of what just happened. Her mind screams for distance, for clarity, but all she can think of is him—how easy it is for him to come back, to claim her, to slip under her skin again. Her body betrays her, constantly craving that closeness to him.

She tries to push her thoughts away, focusing on the only thing she can control—her health, Harvey.

But as the days pass, her body weakens. She can feel the strain in every bone, every muscle, the exhaustion that lingers in the very marrow of her being.

Her thoughts become muddled, slow, weighed down by the constant fatigue. By the end of the week, she's at her lowest. The weight of it all—her emotions, her body's betrayal, the crushing uncertainty about her future—has finally broken her.

She finds herself bent over the toilet once again, the nausea so intense that it feels as though it might consume her whole.

Nate is there, standing in the doorway, his presence a quiet, constant reminder of the man she's still in love with and the man she's trying to break free from. His hands are gentle as he tries to care for her, but she can barely accept it.

His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "You're going to see a doctor tomorrow." His gaze is intense, insistent, as if he's making a demand rather than a suggestion.

Typical Nate.

"I'm fine," she mutters, the words coming out weak, even though she knows they're a lie. She doesn't want to argue, doesn't want to fight him right now. "You should go."

"No, you're not fine. Not even close. I'm staying here tonight, Cassie."

He steps closer, his eyes flickering with something softer now, a mixture of concern and guilt. "Look, I'm not trying to control you. I'm just... worried about you, okay? Let me take care of Harvey while you rest. Let me do this for you."

Cassie wants to argue, wants to tell him she can handle it, but something about the exhaustion settling in her bones makes her want to accept the relief he's offering.

"You don't have to stay," she whispers, her voice shaky. "I'll be fine."

Nate's jaw tightens, his expression hardening slightly. "I'm staying. I'm not leaving you like this. You need rest, and you need to see a doctor. Let me help." He steps forward, his hand brushing against hers, his touch a soft contrast to the firmness of his words.

Cassie closes her eyes for a moment, fighting the wave of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her. She knows she should be stronger, should be able to do this on her own, but right now, she feels like she's barely holding it together.

"Okay," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can stay. But just tonight, Nate. Just tonight."

Nate nods, the relief in his eyes palpable. "Good. Get some sleep, Cassie."

In the nursery she watches him check on their son, his movements tender, his gaze loving. Her heart aches as she takes in the sight of him—this man she loves, who has hurt her so much, and yet, here he is, trying to care for her in the only way he knows how.

True to his word, Nate stays by Cassie's side, caring for Harvey throughout the night. He moves quietly, handling their son whenever he cries or stirs, leaving Cassie to finally get some much-needed, uninterrupted rest. The only time she wakes is when he gently rouses her to feed Harvey, his soft voice assuring her everything is fine. She falls back into a light sleep each time, comforted by the sound of Nate's steady presence in the room.

The next morning, Cassie leaves for her doctor's appointment, and Nate is left at home with Harvey.

As he watches his son, a quiet realization settles over him. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a sting of shame—the truth was, this week had been the most one-on-one time he had spent with Harvey. The first time he'd truly taken on the role of a father without distraction.

The night before had left him completely drained. Harvey still had no concept of a regular sleep schedule. His little guy was always awake, always needing something—whether it was feeding, changing, or simply being held. Nate had done his best to soothe him, but as the hours ticked by, Harvey fussed, cried, ate, napped for brief moments, and then inevitably woke again. The constant motion, the never-ending care, had left him exhausted, and he couldn't help but marvel at how Cassie had done this every day for the last months.

But even in the exhaustion, there was an undeniable connection. When Harvey finally settled, his tiny head resting against Nate's chest, his soft breath warm against his skin, a flood of warmth filled him. The overwhelming sense of love and responsibility coursing through him was something he hadn't expected.

In those quiet moments, with Harvey peacefully dozing, Nate could feel the weight of everything that mattered. This was his family. And for the first time in a long while, he understood what it meant to hold them close, to protect them—no matter what.

"I promise you," he would whisper to his son. "I'm going to fix this."

An hour later, Cassie walks through the door, her face streaked with tears.

Nate's heart sinks at the sight of her. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice thick with concern.

Without a word, she avoids his gaze and rushes up the stairs, slamming their bedroom door shut and locking it behind her. He's quick to follow, his hand pounding on the door as he calls out to her, pleading.

"I'm fine, Nate." she responds, her voice muffled. "I want to be alone."

He presses his forehead against the door, frustration and worry mixing. "Open the fucking door, Cassie. Or I'll knock it down myself."

Right now, she hates his brute presence, his need to control the situation. The sound of his fist hitting the door makes her flinch, the power behind it making her stomach twist in frustration.

She knows him too well—knows he would knock the door down without a second thought if she didn't open it. He's done it before, his determination relentless, and part of her feels suffocated by the idea of him always pushing through, never giving her space, never letting her breathe.

And yet, there's a part of her that craves it.

A sick, twisted part of her wants to see the beast within him unleash. She wants to be loved so hard to break down doors to be with her. She wants him to chase her to the ends of the earth. She wants him to find her and claim her as his over and over again.

When he's not there, she feels a sharp pang of anxiety. The silence becomes deafening, and every moment alone without him feels like a slow unraveling. She can't stop the fear that gnaws at her: What if he's leaving me? What if this time, he really walks away?

It's an endless, vicious cycle: she hates it, yet she craves it, needing his constant presence, even if it suffocates her.

It's maddening, this push and pull. His intensity makes her feel like she matters to him. That she won't be forgotten. That she's his.

Her lungs belong to him, she grasps at air in his absence. Her heart beats for him. Her very being exists to be with him.

And now, with his fists on the door, demanding to come in, the overwhelming confusion takes hold of her once again. Part of her wants to open it, to let him in, because the thought of him not being there scares her more than she wants to admit. But she hates that this is how he forces her to be—trapped between wanting his love and needing to breathe.

She wants to scream at him, tell him to leave her alone.

She wants him to hold her and kiss away her fears.

The door shakes under his pounding, and without realizing it, her hand slowly reaches for the doorknob. It's almost like she's being pulled by some invisible force, unable to stop herself. She opens it.

Nate's eyes are wide with worry as he steps into the room, his expression softening when he sees her standing there, still trembling. He doesn't say a word at first, his gaze scanning her face as if he can read everything in her eyes. Before she has a chance to pull away, he pulls her into his arms, his embrace strong and warm, everything she both needs and resents. His hands press against her back, pulling her closer as if to absorb all the hurt she's holding inside.

And she crumbles into him.

"Baby," he says, his voice thick with concern. "You're really making me worried. What did they say?"

Her mind is a storm, swirling with anger, confusion, and frustration, and she looks at Nate like she hates him.

She pulls back from him, wiping her eyes, trying to collect herself. Her chest feels tight, and her heart races as the weight of what she just learned settles deeper into her bones.

"I'm pregnant."

All the pretty stars shine for you, my love

Am I the girl that you dream of?