Martina remained on the couch long after Elias left, absently running her fingers over the cool leather. The quiet was unusual—almost unnerving. A life like hers rarely allowed for stillness.
She exhaled, shifting slightly to press her hand against her stomach. It was too early to feel anything, but the weight of what was happening—what was growing inside her—settled deep in her chest. Elias was already treating her differently, as if she might break, as if she needed to be handled with care. She knew it came from a place of love, but still, it felt strange.
Rest. Take it easy. Let me handle things.
It wasn’t in her nature to sit back while someone else took control. But at the same time, it wasn’t just about her anymore.
With a sigh, she pushed herself up from the couch, stretching he
