There was someone inside of her. Growing. Feeling it there, moving against his hand, had officially resulted in the first pang of something that wasn't fear or resentment. The faintest hint of warmth lurked on the corners of his features; they were practically invisible, but the presence of the emotion was there. He didn't know what it was, but he wasn't drawing back or rising up to pace, as he often did when he got upset about things. He was...surprised. Perhaps even pleasantly so.
At the thought, his hand slid away from her stomach and back into his lap. His eyes fell downward toward the floor. Direct eye contact was difficult with her nowadays, no matter what he was feeling.
What was he supposed to say to her? Did he tell her how, for the first time since hearing about their child, that he felt warmth instead of a bitter cold? No, he decided, looking up. He didn't think that he could handle talking to her about that. Much of anything really. Only having just processed the feeling himself, he doubted that Heather would be the first person out there that he expressed it to. Not when he didn't even entirely know what that feeling was all about.
"Thank you." He had to say something. That seemed the most appropriate. "For calling me over."