Betrayed By My Favorite Soul

I woke up to the warm weight of his arm around my waist and the soft brush of his lips against the back of my neck. “Morning, my love,” Mark murmured, his voice still rough with sleep, the way it always sounded when he was only half awake and completely mine. I smiled without opening my eyes and pressed myself closer, melting into him like I had every morning since the day we got married. Six months. Only six months, and already I couldn’t imagine a world where I didn’t wake up like this... wrapped in his arms, safe, wanted, completely loved. “Five more minutes,” I whispered. He laughed quietly against my skin, the sound low and warm. “You said that twenty minutes ago, Lucy.” I turned in his arms anyway. Soft morning light spilled through the curtains and painted gold across his face. I reached up and traced the line of his jaw with my fingertip, my heart doing that familiar, helpless little flip it always did when I looked at him too long. His dark hair was messy from sleep. There was a faint shadow of stubble on his chin. He looked unfairly beautiful. “I love you,” I said, the words coming out soft and certain. Mark’s eyes softened in that way that always made my stomach flutter. He caught my hand, brought it to his mouth, and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my palm like it was something sacred. “I love you more,” he whispered. “Always.” We stayed tangled together longer than we should have, trading lazy kisses and quiet laughter, the kind of easy intimacy that made the rest of the world feel far away. When I finally slipped out of bed to make coffee, he followed me without a word, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind while I stood at the kitchen counter. He buried his face in the curve of my neck and breathed me in like he never wanted to let go. “You know what I was thinking?” he murmured against my skin. “Hmm?” “That we should start trying.” His voice was gentle, almost careful, but full of something warm and hopeful. “For a baby. Properly. No more waiting.” My heart stopped, then started again, harder than before. I had dreamed of this... of a little home filled with laughter, of Mark’s children with my eyes or his smile, of nights spent rocking a baby while he watched us with that soft, private look he only ever gave me. I turned in his arms, eyes already shining. “You mean it?” “I mean it.” He kissed my forehead, then the tip of my nose, then my lips, slow and sweet. “I want everything with you, Lucy. A family. A forever. You and me… and whoever comes next.” I threw my arms around his neck and laughed against his skin, so full of happiness it almost hurt. “Then let’s start trying.” Mark held me tighter than usual that morning. Almost too tight. But all I felt was love. All I felt was the future blooming between us like something bright and certain. Later that afternoon, while he was at the office, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with my hand resting lightly on my flat stomach. A soft, secret smile curved my lips. I tilted my head, already imagining the way my body might change, the way Mark’s face would light up when we finally saw those two pink lines. A baby I could already picture it so clearly... Mark dropping to his knees in the middle of our living room, pressing his mouth to my belly, whispering promises to the little life inside me. I had never been happier in my entire life. Everything felt perfect. Our apartment was warm. Our marriage was sweet. And the man I loved more than my own breath wanted to build a family with me. My phone buzzed on the counter. Mark: Miss you already. Come have lunch with me? I need my wife. I grinned like a schoolgirl and typed back quickly, my fingers almost trembling with leftover joy. "On my way. Love you more". I grabbed my bag, still smiling so hard my cheeks hurt, and headed out the door. The sun felt warmer than usual. The city seemed brighter. I walked with a lightness in my step, already planning what I would order, already thinking about the way his eyes would soften when he saw me across the table. I had no idea that while I was dreaming of the life that would one day grow inside me, my husband was already planning how to make sure nothing ever would. And that the first quiet, almost forgettable pain in my lower right side... the one I brushed off as nothing more than a random ache — had already begun.