LAYLA'S POV
The pregnancy fatigue this trimester arrives without warning and takes my arms first.
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed with my hair loose and the shower already running because I've been working up to standing for ten minutes. My arms are too heavy to lift. The baby has been active all night – kicking, shifting, making it very clear that sleep is a privilege I haven't earned – and my body is responding by shutting down one system at a time.
I can hear the water running. I can see the bathroom door. The distance between the two feels like a marathon.
Eli appears in my doorway.
He doesn't knock because the door is open. He doesn't ask what's wrong because he reads the situation in about two seconds – the wet hair from yesterday still tangled, my arms limp in my lap, the sho
