Lucian
Mara and I had been spending most of our time indoors. I’d scaled back my work—intentionally. She was carrying our child, and there was no way I was letting her go through it alone. I wanted to be there for every moment, every mood swing, every scan, every ounce of discomfort. So I cleared my schedule and made being with her the priority.
And somehow, that led to me becoming the unofficial chauffeur for Tiffany’s checkups too.
It wasn’t a burden. Mara and Tiffany had grown close, and honestly, it was good for both of them. But every time I saw the way Mara smiled when Tiffany was around—or how easily they talked, like sisters who’d skipped the awkward phase—I felt a small ache. Mara would miss her when she left. Deeply.
I hoped she wouldn’t leave. I hoped Darian would stop actin
