…
Monday morning arrived with a text from Damien at six AM.
Doctor appointment at nine. I'll have breakfast ready.
Aria stared at the message, her stomach doing nervous flips that had nothing to do with morning sickness.
Today they would see the baby. Hear the heartbeat. Make it all real.
She lay in bed a moment longer, her hand drifting to her still-flat stomach.
Four weeks pregnant. A tiny cluster of cells becoming their child.
Terrifying. Miraculous. Impossible.
She got up slowly, testing her stomach. The nausea was mild this morning. But manageable.
A small victory.
In the bathroom, she stared at her reflection. She didn't look pregnant. Didn't look different at all. Just tired and nervous.
But everything had changed.
When she walked into the kitchen at seven-thirty, Damien
