Selin woke up slowly, her body still half-lost in sleep. The room was quiet, the TV long turned off, and Alekos's arm was still around her. His warmth should have been comforting, but something else pulled her attention first.
There was a strange sensation low in her stomach. Not pain, not sharp or alarming, but unfamiliar. It wasn't like the usual heaviness she had learned to expect. This felt different—subtle, but noticeable enough to make her pause.
Her hand moved there instinctively, pressing lightly as she tried to understand it. Her breathing slowed, her thoughts beginning to catch up with her body.
Alekos stirred beside her, his voice still thick with sleep. "You okay?"
She didn't answer immediately. She was still processing, still trying to place the feeling into something familiar. But there was nothing familiar about it.
"My period…" she said quietly.
He shifted, more awake now, his attention immediately on her. "What about it?"
She hesitated before answering, her voice lower this time, more uncertain.
"It didn't come."
The words hung between them. There was no immediate reaction, no dramatic shift—just silence settling into the space around them.
Selin finally looked at him, and this time the fear was clearer. Not panic, not yet—but something close to it.
"I don't know what this means," she admitted.
Because with everything her body had been through, nothing was simple anymore. It could mean something. It could mean nothing. And that uncertainty was the hardest part.
Alekos didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached for her hand, holding it firmly, grounding her before either of them let their thoughts spiral too far.
For now, that was enough.
"We need to go to a pharmacy right now."
Selin stood up immediately—only to fall back down just as quickly.
Alekos laughed, teasing her. "You really thought you could walk after what happened last night?"
"So what am I supposed to do now, genius?" Selin questioned, looking at the man still lounging on the couch, staring at her like she was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
She was.
"I'll go to the pharmacy," he said, getting up and looking around for his pants. Then he paused, turning back to her. "Wait… why are we going to the pharmacy?"
Selin slapped her face.
"For a pregnancy test, my dear husband."
That stopped him completely. His movements halted as he looked at her, then slowly approached. He reached out, gently touching her abdomen.
"Do you really think…?" he asked, his voice softer now, his eyes filled with that familiar, hopeful look.
"My periods fluctuate because of my situation," she said, pausing midway, careful not to give in to false hope. "…but this feels different."
She took a breath.
"Go to the pharmacy and get me a pregnancy test."
"I can't go," her husband replied.
"Why not?" she asked, crossing her arms over her bare chest—momentarily distracting him before he quickly regained his composure.
"Uh… I've never done this," he admitted.
"Yeah," Selin responded dryly, "I hope so."
She started pacing—well, attempting to—thinking of solutions, ways they could handle this. She couldn't walk properly, and her husband was apparently incapable of completing a simple task.
They both looked at each other.
"There's only one person," Selin stated.
Alekos's eyes widened immediately.
"No."
"Last option."
Selin didn't hesitate.
She pressed the call button before Alekos could physically stop her. He watched in pure horror, his entire body tensing like he had just witnessed the beginning of something irreversible.
"Selin—don't—" he started, already knowing it was too late.
The phone rang once. Twice.
Then—
"Why are you calling me this early?" Nilay's voice came through immediately, sharp and alert, like she hadn't been sleeping at all but instead waiting for something dramatic to happen.
Selin didn't bother easing into it. There was no point. "We need you."
There was a brief pause on the other end, just long enough for suspicion to settle in.
"…What did you do?"
Alekos scoffed loudly from beside her, offended. "Why is it automatically me?"
"Because it's always you," Nilay replied without missing a beat. "What happened? Did you break something? Did she break something? Are we going to the hospital?"
Selin exhaled, trying to keep her voice steady. "No. Nothing like that."
"Then why do you sound like you just committed a crime?" Nilay pushed, her tone sharpening further.
Selin hesitated for a second, glancing at Alekos. He was already shaking his head, silently begging her not to say it.
She ignored him.
"We think I might be pregnant."
The silence that followed was immediate.
Complete.
Alekos blinked, slowly turning his head toward the phone like it might explode.
Selin pulled it away slightly, checking the screen to make sure the call hadn't dropped.
"…Hello?"
Then—
a loud, dramatic gasp burst through the speaker.
"I KNEW IT."
Alekos groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "Oh my God."
"I knew something was going on," Nilay continued, her voice rising with every word, already spiraling into full excitement. "You don't call me like this unless something life-altering has happened. Oh my God. Oh my God."
"Nilay—" Selin tried to interrupt, but it was pointless.
"DON'T MOVE."
Selin froze instinctively. "…What?"
"Do. Not. Move. I'm coming."
"We just need a pregnancy test—" Selin tried again, attempting to bring the situation back to something reasonable.
"I said I'm coming!" Nilay snapped, cutting her off completely. "You think I'm going to let my possibly pregnant, medically fragile daughter-in-law and my incompetent son handle this alone?"
"Hey—" Alekos protested, finally looking up.
"You be quiet," Nilay shot back instantly. "Did you at least make her breakfast? Hydrate her? Support her properly? No? Of course not."
Alekos looked genuinely offended now. "It's been ten minutes!"
"Unacceptable."
Selin pinched the bridge of her nose, already overwhelmed.
"Nilay, it's not even confirmed yet," she said, trying one last time to reason with her.
"I don't care," Nilay replied without hesitation. "We prepare for all outcomes. I'm bringing multiple tests. Different brands. We are not relying on one result."
Alekos muttered under his breath, "This is turning into a lab experiment."
"I heard that," Nilay said sharply. "And yes, it is. Your life depends on it."
Selin couldn't help it—a small, helpless laugh slipped out despite everything.
"…How long will you take?"
"I'm already in the car," Nilay replied.
Alekos blinked. "You hung up and left immediately, didn't you?"
"I didn't even hang up," Nilay answered.
And then—
the line went dead.
The room fell quiet again, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn't just tension anymore—it was anticipation, mixed with something fragile and uncertain.
Selin slowly lowered the phone, her thoughts catching up with everything that had just happened.
Alekos stared at her for a long moment before speaking.
"…We're never going to know peace again, are we?"
Selin let out a slow breath.
"Not a chance."
But as the words left her mouth, her hand moved—almost unconsciously—resting over her stomach.
This time—
she didn't pull it away.
The villa felt strangely quiet after the call ended.
Not empty—just… suspended. Like everything was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen next.
Selin stayed where she was for a moment, her hand still resting over her stomach, her thoughts moving faster than she could process. Alekos watched her carefully, not saying anything at first, like he understood that words might only make it worse.
He stepped closer slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to.
She didn't.
Instead, she looked up at him—just for a second—and something in her expression shifted. Not panic. Not fear.
Just… need.
Without saying anything, she moved toward him and sat on his lap.
It wasn't hesitant.
It wasn't awkward.
It was instinct.
Like her body had already decided before her mind could catch up.
Alekos froze for half a second, surprised—but his hands came up immediately, steadying her at her waist, careful but not distant this time.
Selin exhaled softly and rested her head against his bare chest.
And just like that—
something in her eased.
His warmth grounded her. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her cheek gave her something solid to focus on, something real in the middle of all the uncertainty.
Alekos didn't move.
Didn't speak.
He just adjusted slightly, one arm wrapping around her back, the other resting lightly over her arm—holding her there without pressure.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice softer now, closer.
Selin nodded against him.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I just… needed this."
His fingers moved slowly along her arm, absent, gentle—more reassurance than anything else.
"Then stay," he said.
She did.
She stayed right there, curled into him, listening to his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest like it was something she could anchor herself to.
"I didn't think it would feel like this," she murmured after a moment.
"Like what?" he asked.
She paused, searching for the right word.
"Scary," she admitted. "But also… calm."
Alekos let out a quiet breath.
"Yeah," he said. "That sounds about right."
His cheek rested lightly against her head.
"Whatever this is," he added, "we're not rushing it. We wait. We do it right."
Selin closed her eyes briefly, letting that settle.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.
His arm tightened slightly around her.
"I'm not going anywhere."
And for a moment—
just a moment—
everything felt still.
Safe.
Like the world had paused long enough to let them breathe.
The moment didn't last long enough.
Selin was still sitting on Alekos's lap, her body finally relaxed after everything they had gone through. Her head rested against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as if it could quiet the storm in her mind. His arm was wrapped securely around her back, holding her in place—not tightly, not urgently, but with a quiet certainty that made her feel safe.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them wanted to.
For the first time in what felt like forever, they weren't thinking about time, or consequences, or what came next. They had simply… stopped.
The front door slammed open.
Hard.
"MOVE—"
Nilay's voice cut through the apartment with sharp urgency, echoing through the walls before either of them had time to react.
Selin flinched immediately, her body tensing against Alekos's. He barely had a second to register what was happening before Nilay stormed into the living room, bags hanging from both hands, her expression already set in full control mode.
"I told you not to—" she began, mid-step.
Then she stopped.
Completely.
Her entire body froze as her eyes landed on them.
The scene in front of her was… not ideal.
Selin, still perched on Alekos's lap, was wrapped in nothing but an oversized hoodie that had clearly shifted out of place. Her shoulders were bare, her legs uncovered, and there was absolutely no mistaking the fact that she had not expected company.
And Alekos—
was shirtless.
Completely.
Sitting there like he hadn't even considered the possibility of someone walking in.
Holding her.
Like the world outside didn't exist.
The silence that followed was immediate.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Selin's brain caught up first.
Her eyes widened, and without thinking, she grabbed the hem of the hoodie and pulled it down as much as physically possible, trying to cover herself while simultaneously attempting to disappear into thin air.
Alekos, on the other hand, did not move.
Because he genuinely had no idea how to recover from this.
Nilay blinked once.
Then again.
Then slowly tilted her head, as if reconsidering every decision that had led her to this exact moment.
"…I should've knocked," she said finally, her voice unusually calm.
"No," Alekos replied flatly, still processing, "you should've stayed home."
Selin immediately slapped his chest. "Don't speak."
"I'm processing trauma," he muttered under his breath.
Nilay dropped the bags onto the table with a loud thud, the sound breaking the tension just slightly.
"Well," she said, crossing her arms and looking between them, "at least I know you're trying."
"Nilay!" Selin groaned, burying her face back into Alekos's chest out of pure embarrassment.
Alekos glanced down at her, still stunned. "Now you're hiding in me?"
"Yes."
"…Fair."
Nilay exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples as if she needed a moment to recover from what she had just witnessed.
"I leave you alone for one hour," she said slowly, "and I walk into… this."
She gestured vaguely at them, clearly choosing not to elaborate.
"No boundaries. No warning. No—layers."
Alekos finally snapped out of his shock enough to defend himself. "You broke in."
"I have a key."
"That doesn't mean you use it like a raid!"
Selin lifted her head slightly, still clutching the hoodie tightly around herself.
"Can we not argue while I'm… like this?" she said, her voice smaller now.
Nilay paused.
Looked at her properly this time.
Then sighed—this time, softer.
"Fine."
A brief moment passed before she added, with complete seriousness—
"Go put on pants."
Selin didn't argue.
She quickly got off Alekos's lap, nearly stumbling before catching herself, and hurried out of the room, her face still flushed with embarrassment.
Alekos watched her go, then slowly turned back to his mother.
"…You traumatized her."
"I traumatized myself," Nilay replied instantly. "I didn't need to see that much of your life this early in the morning."
Alekos leaned back against the couch, dragging a hand down his face. "You're the one who told us to try."
"Yes," Nilay snapped, "not to turn the living room into a demonstration."
A few moments later, Selin returned—this time properly dressed, though still visibly flustered.
Nilay's demeanor shifted immediately.
She straightened, refocusing, all business now.
"Sit," she instructed.
Selin obeyed without question.
Alekos stayed where he was, still quiet, still processing everything that had just happened.
Nilay began unpacking the bags, pulling out multiple pregnancy tests and lining them up neatly on the table with practiced efficiency.
"We're doing this properly," she said firmly. "No guessing. No rushing. No mistakes."
The chaos settled into something else entirely.
Something real.
And suddenly—
this wasn't just a moment anymore.
It was a turning point.