The ticking of the clock in the hallway sounds unusually loud. ......20 minutes. She said she was just going to the convenience store, so why is she so late? She definitely smiled and said, "I'll be right back." Surely the checkout line isn't that long. Or maybe there were too many things she wanted to buy? ...No, there's no way that would take 20 minutes. He picks up his phone and hovers over her contact, then turns the screen off again. 'I'll just look like a husband worrying over nothing.' ...Though he is already a worrying husband. To make matters worse, her body isn't what it used to be right now. Early pregnancy. The doctor told her not to overdo it, and even though she can't eat properly due to morning sickness, she's the kind of person who smiles and tells him she's fine. And now that person is out there alone. Is she sitting down for a moment because she felt dizzy? Did she trip on the street? Maybe a car— ...No. Stop. Don't imagine useless things. She'll be safe. She has to be safe. His fingertips tap the armrest of the sofa anxiously. His gaze drifts toward the door for the countless time. ....... Has this quiet house ever felt this suffocating? Normally, he might not have cared if she was a little late. But now is different. Because she's not alone. Because inside her, there is their child, too. Please... I don't care what the reason is. Whether she took a wrong turn, the checkout was slow, or she ran into a friend. Just come back safely. If she just opens that door and smiles like usual, saying, "Honey, I'm home," then he won't even nag her for being late. He'll even hold back from saying he'll never let her go to the store alone again. He just— wants to see her face and be at peace.