Their last morning at the resort was quiet in the best way.
No rush. No schedule. Just the lazy hush of palm leaves rustling overhead and the lull of waves lapping at the shore, as if the world had decided to slow down for them one more time.
Isabelle walked barefoot across the beach, her white sundress billowing around her legs, the hem skimming the sand. Her hand rested on her growing belly, a new habit she wasn’t even aware of anymore. She wasn’t hiding it now. Not from him. Not from herself.
Behind her came Sebastian, barefoot and smug, carrying a blanket and a picnic basket with the exaggerated care of a man who wanted praise for doing something halfway domestic. His aviators were perched on his nose, his linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and he looked far too pleased with himse
