Luna POV
The test was positive on a Tuesday morning in October, the kind of day when the air smelled of woodsmoke and change, when the leaves had turned to gold and were beginning to fall.
I sat on the bathroom floor of our new apartment—the one Ethan and I had found together, a pre-war building on the Upper West Side with crown molding and a view of the park—and stared at the double line until my eyes blurred.
I was thirty-one. I had a daughter I adored. I had a company that demanded everything I had. I had a marriage that was still new, still fragile, still being built day by day.
And now this.
Ethan found me there, still in my robe, the test clutched in my hand. He had been making coffee, humming something under his breath, and he stopped in the doorway, his expression shifting fro
