Naomi’s POV
I woke up before the alarm—again.
The room was quiet, with soft light filtering through the sheer curtains. Raymond was breathing gently next to me, his arm loosely around my waist. I tried to move quietly, but the dull cramp that had woken me came back.
It wasn’t sharp. Not really. Just… tight.
Uncomfortable.
I sat up slowly, rubbing my belly. The baby moved, a gentle roll under my hand. I sighed and whispered, “Good morning, little one. You’re up early.”
Or maybe I was.
I pushed the covers off and tiptoed to the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror didn’t look tired, but the weariness felt heavy on my shoulders. I splashed cold water on my face and made a silent promise:
One more week. Just get through Barcelona.
Downstairs, I forced myself to eat half a bowl of oat
