That night, long after Isabella had fallen asleep, Marian lay awake.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Beside her, Daniel’s breathing had already evened out, one arm still draped protectively over her waist even in sleep.
But Marian couldn’t close her eyes.
Her mind kept replaying the doctor’s words.
“Your hormone levels are lower than expected…”
“It could be nothing…”
“…or it could indicate a possible complication.”
She stared at the ceiling.
Her hand slowly moved to her stomach.
A baby.
Their baby.
Something she never thought she would have.
Not when, in the past, they had been married for five years and had tried for her to get pregnant, but nothing happened.
Not after everything.
Not after losing Daniel once.
Not after rebuilding everything piece by piece.
And now—
It
