Almara’s Pov
Arthur and I retreat back up to our bedroom with Grace. I have her sprawled out on the king-sized mattress while I lie my side next to her. “I’m sorry about my parents.” I tell him absent-mindedly as I stroke small circles on Grace’s pudgy belly.
“Nothing for you to be sorry for,” Arthur calls out in reply from the walk-in closet. “Can’t say I really blame them. I mean, does it sting? Sure, but there coming from a caring place.” Arthur returns down the hall with two designer suitcases in his hands.
“I appreciate you being so calm about this.” I tell him and mean it. I hate to compare, but I think of how Robert would have responded and Arthur doesn’t even take it personally. Grace brings her knees to her chest and focuses with all her might to grab her feet. She begins ma
