Kenneth didn't react with the anger she expected. Seeing her in physical distress overrode everything else. He stood up, his face set in a mask of grim concern.
"Come with me," he said firmly.
He led her into the tiny, tiled bathroom. He turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the small space until the mirrors fogged over. The warmth hit Nicole's skin, and she leaned against the cool tiles, trembling.
"You said you need to... to express it, right?" Kenneth asked, his voice shaking slightly as he reached for the buttons of her cardigan.
"I can't do it alone," Nicole whispered, her pride finally shattering. "It hurts too much to move my arms. Please... help me."
Kenneth stepped into the stall with her, both of them fully clothed as the warm spray began to soak their hair and shoulders. He was hesitant, his hands trembling as he helped her peel away the ruined silk blouse.
When he saw her—the physical evidence of her motherhood, the fullness she had been hiding under designer clothes—his breath caught.
"Guide me," he murmured.
Nicole reached down, placing her small, cold hands over his larger, warm ones. She guided his palms to the source of the pain. "Like this," she gasped. "You have to... you have to be firm, Kenneth. Please."
As the warm water rained down on them, the barrier of two years of lies finally washed away. In the intimacy of the steam and the shared task, Kenneth wasn't just her old friend anymore—he was the father of her child, finally stepping into the role he never knew he had.