Damien's POV
By the twentieth week, Sophia's belly had grown into a small, undeniable curve, and I found myself constantly, helplessly drawn to placing my hand against it, waiting for movement.
"You keep doing that," she said one evening, laughing softly as I settled my hand there again, both of us lying in bed.
"I can't help it," I said. "I keep hoping to feel something."
"The doctor said it might be a few more weeks," she said. "For you to feel it from outside. I can feel little flutters already."
"That's not fair," I said. "You get all the good parts."
She laughed, the sound warm in the quiet room.
"You get plenty of good parts," she said. "You get to watch me eat strange food combinations at midnight."
"That is genuinely fascinating," I said seriously. "Last night's pickle and
