AVA'S POV
Some mornings, I wake up and forget how much has changed.
For a few seconds, it's just soft sheets, the hum of the city beyond the window, and the familiar cadence of Ethan's breath beside me.
But then it all catches up, like sunlight rising over the edge of sleep and I remember. We're preparing to become parents.
It still feels surreal.
I reached for Ethan's hand, our fingers intertwining automatically. He was half-awake, his lashes fluttering slightly. Even in sleep, he never really let go of me. And I loved that.
"I think we should get a journal," I whispered, not really expecting him to respond.
But he murmured, "For the baby?"
I smiled. "Yeah. To document the journey. Letters. Thoughts. Little things."
He opened one eye and kissed the back of my hand. "I love that idea."
We moved slowly that morning, intentionally. There was no rush. No looming crisis. No boardroom wars or headline dramas. Just us. And the quiet promise of the life we were building, together.
