Wait

I waited until she finished her set.

She took a breath, rolled her shoulders, and started walking toward the water fountain at the side of the gym. I grabbed my towel and followed at a normal pace, trying not to look like I was following her.

She reached the fountain first and bent slightly to drink. The movement made her tank top ride up just enough to show the full, heavy curve of her belly. Even from the side it looked big — round and tight, sitting low. She straightened up, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and noticed me approaching.

I kept it casual.

“Late night gym sessions are weird, right?” I said, stepping up beside her. “Feels like the whole place belongs to you until someone else shows up.”

She glanced at me, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Up close she looked even more pregnant than I’d thought. Her belly was prominent, stretching the black tank top, and there was a light flush on her cheeks from the workout.

“Yeah,” she said, voice a little breathless from the set. “I usually come earlier, but I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

I nodded, then decided to just say it.

“I’ve never seen a pregnant woman working out this late. Or this well, honestly. You looked really solid on those cable pulls. Most people would’ve tapped out way earlier with a bump like that.”

She raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t look offended. If anything, she seemed faintly amused.

“Thanks,” she said, resting one hand on the underside of her belly like it was second nature. “I’ve been trying to stay active. My doctor’s been on board with it so far.” She gave me a quick once-over. “You here trying to burn off some stress too?”

“Something like that,” I admitted. “Didn’t expect company at this hour.”

She took another sip of water, then wiped her hands on her leggings.

“Most people don’t come in at 3am unless they can’t sleep or they’re avoiding something,” she said. There was no judgment in her tone — just observation. “Which one are you?”

I let out a short laugh. “Both, probably.”

She smiled again — small, but real. Her eyes flicked down to my hoodie and shorts, then back up.

“I’m Mia, by the way.”

“Ryan.”

We stood there for a second near the water fountain. The gym was still almost empty. Just the low hum of machines and the occasional distant clang of weights.

Mia’s hand stayed on her belly, fingers idly stroking the side of it. She didn’t seem in a rush to leave.

“You train here often?” she asked.

“Few times a week. Usually not this late though.”

“Smart,” she said, glancing around the empty space. “It’s peaceful when it’s like this. No one staring.”

She said it lightly, but I caught the meaning. She was used to people staring at her bump.

I decided to lean into it instead of pretending I hadn’t noticed.

“Hard not to notice when someone’s putting in work like you were,” I said. “Especially looking like that.”

Mia’s eyes met mine again. This time there was a flicker of something else — curiosity, maybe. Or caution.

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead she tilted her head slightly, still resting her hand on her belly.

“You always this direct with pregnant women you meet at 3am?” she asked. There was a teasing edge to it, but it wasn’t unfriendly.

I shrugged, deciding honesty was probably my best bet right now.

“Honestly? No. I’m still figuring out how to do this without sounding like an idiot.”

Mia let out a soft laugh — quiet, but genuine.

“Well,” she said, “you’re doing better than most.”

She looked at me for another moment, then glanced toward the empty gym floor.

“I’ve got one more set on the cables if you want to keep me company,” she said. “Or you can go back to pretending you weren’t watching me earlier.”

There was a clear invitation in her voice.