"So Kenneth, what advice do you have for those looking for a work and life balance?

"It's not about having a fifty-fifty work-life balance. It's about stability and juggling elements in your life and schedules without feeling everything is a strain. Most of the time, the stressful things aren't compulsory. If one's job is a strain, one should consider adapting their skill set so it doesn't feel like punishment or changing their job. Nothing should feel like a punishment."

"How do you maintain your balance, Kenneth?"

Kenneth adjusted his position before saying, "I give myself time. Many people say they don't have it, but time is something we can make. I use the time I create to spend time with my partner. I know those moments spent together are essential to keep my balance."

"Hi, Bradley,"

"Hey, Monday, you made it."

"Yeah, does he know I'm here?"

No, I did what you asked," Bradley replied, looking in Kenneth's direction.

Monday contacted Bradley, who kindly gave her Kenneth's schedule and left her name at the studio's reception. It took her two weeks to decide whether to tell Kenneth or not about the pregnancy, and finally, she decided it was the best thing to do for reasons she still tried to define.

"How long will he be on air?" Monday asked while looking at Kenneth. He seemed so confident that one couldn't guess the work his guru role demanded from his appearance.

"It's almost over," Bradley replied.

"Well, thank you, Kenneth, for being with us today and for sharing all these tips."

"Thank you for having me, Peter."

The host signed off, and Kenneth got up. An assistant came to take off his mic. Kenneth then hurried off the stage, "Brad, Iㅡ," he stopped, "what are you doing here?"

"I missed you," Monday answered.

What happened next left the people on the set speechless. Kenneth resumed his stride to give Monday what seemed like the kiss of life for the spectators. The man for whom PDA was a behind-closed-door business left the window open for all to discover that he, too, was made of flesh and blood.

"Who is she?" Peter, the host, asked Bradley.

"She's his middle part."

The sentence had become the formula that defined Monday amongst Kenneth's entourage. Monday's presence benefited Kenneth, who let loose when she was around. It seemed she was the only person Kenneth didn't keep his guru facade with.

Unsatisfied with Bradley's answer, Peter approached the couple, who whispered things to one other, "Kenneth, aren't you going to introduce us."

"Ah, Peter, this is Daye Yeni. Monday, this is Peter Gable, one of the best lifestyle talk show hosts New York has to offer," Kenneth said as he slid his hand around Monday's waist.

"Nice to meet you, Peter."

"The pleasure is all mine. It's not every day one meets someone close to Kenneth."

Kenneth was famous, but few knew about his private life. His Wikipedia page only displayed his achievements, and there was nothing about his personal life except his place of birth and education. Neither of his parents appeared in the portrait, nor did any of his lovers. Monday was the first person the public discovered.

"Oh, eh, sorry to barge in like this," Monday said.

"Don't worry, it's nothing." Peter turned his gaze to Kenneth, "So what are you going to do now? I guess I can call off our lunch."

Kenneth smiled, "Thank you for your understanding, Peter. Thanks to you, I'll be able to gain a little time with my sweetheart."

Monday had to fight off the feeling of giving the man a side glance.

Sweetheart.

If ever someone had told her the man would call her that someday, she would have cussed the person to the ground. Kenneth's words were unbelievable, and Monday wondered if he would be as sweet once he knew.

"I'll leave you to it then," Peter said. He immediately walked away, giving Monday time to explain herself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother."

Kenneth kissed her forehead, "No, it's fine. You had the perfect timing. I didn't see myself having lunch with him. I've already spent over an hour talking to him. How did you know I'd be here?"

"I asked Bradley. Gosh, you had your day all planned out. I really shouldn't have come."

"Don't worry, Kenneth," said before yelling, "Brad."

"Yes, I know. I've canceled all your appointments for the day."

"See, it's all sorted," Kenneth told Monday.

The couple went to fetch Monday's luggage at the reception before leaving the studio hand in hand.

"Where do you want to go? Do you want to eat anything in particular?" Kenneth asked, opening the door to his car.

"I'm," Monday didn't want to say she lost her appetite. Instead, she replied," anything will do."

"Okay, I know this Italian restaurant in the Bronx where we can have lunch."

"Okay."

Kenneth started the car, "I can't believe you're here. I'm sorry I didn't call you often. I wasㅡ."

"Busy, it's okay."

Again, Kenneth felt relieved Monday wasn't clingy or too demanding. It gave him breathing space, and for the first time, he didn't feel caged to cater to overheated romance.

"When did you arrive?" Kenneth asked.

"Around eleven."

"You must be tired.

"No, I'm good," Monday said, looking down at what Kenneth thought were her feet.

He stopped in front of a building at Belmont Avenue, Marco's. The restaurant seemed modest, and the inside confirmed its status. The cliché decor gave off The Lady And The Tramp vibes with its white and red tablecloth and accordion music in the background.

Everyone spoke Italian, and Monday understood it was a family business.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mosely."

"Good afternoon, Giuseppe."

"Ah, you came with the bella ragazza. Good afternoon, madame."

"Hello."

"Come with me. I have a nice spot for you." Giuseppe took them to a table next to the counter where no one passed and pulled out a chair for Monday.

"What will you be having?" Giuseppe asked once the couple took a seat.

"The usual, and I think madame will have the menu."

"I'll have the same as you as long as it's not spaghetti and meatballs."

Giuseppe laughed while Kenneth frowned at the pun that fell flat with him.

"Are you sure you want the same as me?"

"What are you having?"

"Pollo Alla cacciatora."

"Oh, that's fine," Monday said as if she knew the dish.

"Alright, what will you have for drinks?" Giuseppe asked.

"Sparkling water Kenneth said.

"Just water for me."

The host left, and Kenneth grabbed Monday's hand, "gosh, it's cold. Give me the other."

Kenneth tried to warm her hands, and Monday stared at him as he did. He was so caring. She found herself apprehending his reaction once again.

"Are you sure you're not tired? I can have them pack this up for us."

"No, I'm okay, really, Kenneth."

"I can't believe Brad kept your visit from me."

"I wanted to surprise you," Monday said with a shy smile Kenneth saw for the first time. She had gotten him used to her confidence. It heightened her attractiveness, but this timid stance was a facette Kenneth wished to see more often.

"Well done, you got me."

Kenneth didn't expect Monday to return too soon, especially after he told her about his condition. Monday's visit was at an impeccable time for the man who missed her, and he was relieved to know it was the same for her.

"How long will you stay?"

"As long as you want me around."

Monday's answer made a few freckles reply present on the man's face. Kenneth leaned to kiss her. He cupped her face with his hands and brought her hair to her cheek as their lips touched. The man sat back in his seat, feeling appeased while gazing at her face. He had the impression she had never been as pretty. He could have contemplated her face all afternoon if the dishes didn't arrive.

"Here you go, two Pollo Alla cacciatora."

Monday looked at the dish and wondered why she thought it was pasta when Kenneth ordered.

Giuseppe served the drinks and left after saying, "Bonne appetite."

Monday's frown didn't reassure Kenneth, who asked, "Do you want to order something else?"

"No, it's fine."

"You don't look convinced," Kenneth said as he deployed his napkin.

"No, I'm good," Monday replied, preparing to take the first fork to prove it. The chicken dish was excellent, to her surprise. There were a lot of savors but also acidity from the tomatoes. Still, she ate.

"So, how are things in Paris?"

"Good."

"And your writing?"

"I've stopped," Monday replied.

Kenneth paused, "what do you mean?"

Monday shrugged, "I'm taking a break. I want to focus on something else. I want to train for another occupation."

"All of a sudden?" Kenneth said with concern.

Monday sketched a nervous smile, "Because my life is more interesting than fiction."

Kenneth grinned. Monday was a wanderer. It was one of the traits that drew Kenneth, who challenged himself to make her life sweeter than fiction. To hear her say that sounded like a victory, but there was something bittersweet in her words.

Monday lived to write; the man couldn't imagine her doing something else.

"What would you like to do?"

Monday shrugged. "For the moment, I just want to procrastinate. I haven't stopped writing since I got published; I need a break. I still have stories to write, but I want to take my time."

Fair enough, thought Kenneth.

Fifteen minutes later, Giuseppe came with the dessert menu.

"They have an excellent tiramisu."

"I'm good. I doubt I can fit anything else in these trousers," Monday said.

"Perhaps madame would like some coffee?" Giuseppe asked.

"No, thank you."

Kenneth frowned. Monday was a coffee girl. "I'll have a tiramisu. We can share," Kenneth handed the menu to Giuseppe, crossed his arms, and leaned forward, "I didn't realize you weren't in a dress."

"Don't tell me you're already not looking at me anymore."

Kenneth laughed, "My goodness if only you knew, but I admit it: I was so happy to see you that I didn't check your outfit.

Monday noted the man had made an effort concerning his style. He wore a navy blue turtle neck, dark rinse jeans, and NB 2002R. The outfit was miles away from the corduroy pants and flannel shirts.

"Here you go," Giuseppe said as he placed the dessert and left.

Kenneth dug his spoon in the tiramisu and stretched it to Monday, "Say ah."

"I said I'm full."

"Just one."

Monday sighed and opened her mouth to welcome the spoon of tiramisu.

"So?" Kenneth asked.

"It's delicious."

"See, I told you. Do you want some more?"

"No," Monday replied, remembering the dessert contained caffeine, but she met another spoon.

"It's the last one, Kenneth," Monday said before eating. The meal was pleasurable, and it allowed Monday to temporarily forget her mission.

"Are you okay?" Kenneth asked half an hour later as they drove to his apartment.

Monday opened the window. Her stomach churned, "I'm not feeling too well."

"Do you want me to stop the car?"

Monday nodded.

Kenneth parked just in time. Monday unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door to vomit.

Kenneth hurried to give her tissues. He felt guilty; he shouldn't have forced her to eat that much, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Monday said, leaning her head back when she finished.

They returned to the apartment, where Kenneth gave her something for her stomach. The man noted Monday read the package and finally didn't take the tablets. Instead, she went to the toilet and freed herself a little more.

Why did it have to happen now?

She didn't have any pregnancy symptoms until then. She forgot what stress and anxiety could provoke. Monday immediately took a shower after. In the meantime, Kenneth took the tablet's package and read. It wasn't advised for children under seven and pregnant people.

Kenneth observed Monday as she joined him in the living room.

"Are you feeling better?" The man's voice sounded like a strangled cat.

Monday released a timid and crisped smile, "I don't know why I feel sleepy all of a sudden."

"Go ahead and rest. I have a few manuscripts to review."

"Are you sure? I feel bad you took your day for me," Monday said.

"It's okay, go on," Kenneth prompted.

Monday went to Kenneth's bedroom while he tried to work, but he couldn't. He found himself staring at Monday while she slept. First, there was the coffee. Okay, she wore pants, no biggie, thought Kenneth, but the sickness tablet hinted at something he didn't want his mind to assess.

"How long have you been there?" Monday asked three hours later when she opened her eyes.

"Since the beginning. Monday, are you okay?" Kenneth asked once more.

Monday sat up and pulled her legs towards her to hug them. There would never be a better moment. The writer had written enough books and seen the situation play out enough times to know that.

Monday moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Looking into Kenneth's eyes, she said, "ㅡKenneth, I'm pregnant."

Kenneth blinked once, he blinked twice, his lips began to curve, and he laughed.

Eh, I've opened Monday's support box here. If anyone has kind words for our friend, please don't hesitate.