Melody
Luca shifted in my arms again, a soft sound escaping him as his tiny fingers curled against my shirt. The warmth of him grounded me, even as my chest felt too tight, too full—like everything I’d kept contained for years was suddenly pressing forward, asking to be acknowledged.
I focused on his breathing. On the rise and fall of his small chest. On the way his lashes brushed his cheeks when he slept. Don’t fall apart, I told myself quietly. Not here. Not now.
But the room felt too still. Too attentive. Like every breath I took echoed louder than it should have.
Tony cleared his throat gently. “You okay, Mel?” he asked, careful, as if afraid a wrong word might shatter something delicate.
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.” The words came out smooth, automatic. Practiced. “Just… t
