I woke up with sunlight filtering gently through the curtains and a memory so vivid it felt like it had happened minutes ago. The kiss. The slow, careful kiss that still seemed imprinted on my lips. I sat up in bed, ran my fingers over my mouth, and smiled like a teenager. Then, as if the universe needed to pull me back to reality, the baby gave a little movement—or was it my imagination?—and I placed my hand on my belly.
"Good morning to you too," I whispered, laughing softly.
But doubt came along with the excitement. What would today be like? Would Marco be different? Would he regret it? Was he the kind of man who kisses you at midnight and acts like nothing happened at breakfast?
I put on comfortable jeans and a navy-blue sweater—nothing too flashy, but I didn't want to look like I’d
