Lucas Point of View
The steam curled in thick, opaque ribbons against the ceiling of the bathroom, the air heavy with the scent of sandalwood soap and humidity.
Lucas stood under the spray, the hot water drumming against his shoulders, but his attention was entirely fixed on the woman in front of him. Marble was seven weeks along, almost eight, and the knowledge sat in his chest like a heavy, heated stone. It wasn't just the idea of the baby; it was the way her body had begun to change.
Her breasts, already a perfect handful before, had swollen into heavy, soft mounds that overflowed his palms, the skin stretching tight and sensitive. There was a flush to her cheeks that hadn't been there before, a luminous quality that made her look like she was lit from within.
The wedding was onl
