ALEXANDER
I heard the rhythmic thud long before I reached the doorway.
Faye always had a particular energy when she moved—light, precise, never wasting energy, even when she was distracted or frustrated. I knew it so well that the moment I stepped into the hallway leading to the training room, I could picture her inside before I even saw her. And for some reason, the idea alone eased something in my chest. It always did.
But today, it also made me feel something else.
Because now… she wasn’t just Faye.
She was Faye carrying our child.
I don’t know how long I stayed standing in the doorway, saying nothing, doing nothing—just watching the rise and fall of her body as she moved. The way her ponytail swung like a pendulum. The faint sheen of sweat on the back of her neck. The tiny breath
