Orto

Our trip seemed endless; I felt like I had been in the car for days. Nothing interesting to look at, just a vast, dark, and extremely calm empty road. We broke the absolute silence of the road with songs playing on our cassette player. A mix of chaotic and romantic music that we often listen to when we're together. We listen to a bit of everything, but our favorites are Françoise Hardy and The Doors—"Break on Through" has never stopped playing in our car since we met.
I make this journey at least six times a year, but I didn't understand why we were taking so long today. I constantly looked at our speed to check if Pierre wasn't driving slowly. I fidgeted with the seat adjustment and in the glove compartment while eating the salty crackers I brought as a precaution. Maybe it's because, in my current situation, I haven't been able to sleep well; I've been quite hungry and impatient about certain things.
Pierre kept staring at my belly with a silly smile that he couldn't, and didn't want to, wipe off his face. He's going to be a great father, no doubt about it!
"Eyes on the road, my love. And put on your seatbelt, please." I gently turned his face using only my index finger. "We're fine!"
"We'll be better and calmer if you pay attention to the road!" I smiled.
"Sorry! I'm worried." Pierre tried not to look in my direction again, but he couldn't help it. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and looked at me without moving his head. "You know my opinion on this whole change in our lives, besides having to drive at this time of night."
"I know!" I took a deep breath and slapped the car's dashboard. "And I've heard this same argument a million times, but I won't stop having my child near my parents because of your fear of taking risks. They helped us a lot in times of need, have you forgotten? And you know they can't travel. After our son is born, I don't plan on leaving the house anytime soon either. So, as I had already discussed with you..."
"I know, but try to understand, Emma..."
"No, Pierre! Good grief!" I had to interrupt him. I don't like to raise my voice, but it was necessary. "It won't change anything for you to insist on this topic now. We're already halfway there, practically. We left our jobs, our things from the move will arrive soon, and..." I noticed Pierre's silence and seriousness as he drove and caressed his leg. I don't like to see him upset. "Sorry for yelling. Everything will be alright. We have enough money to live for months without working. And you, my love, have a great professional history. Your boss even wrote you a recommendation. You'll find a new job soon."