Kimberly
The manor was quiet again. We had only just returned from Philadelphia, but everything felt… different now.
I sat on the edge of the window seat, legs curled beneath me, watching the wind stir the trees outside.
The afternoon sun filtered through the glass, casting golden patterns across the wooden floors. It felt like peace. A soft, unexpected peace that didn’t demand anything of me.
I pressed a hand gently to my stomach. The baby had begun to flutter lately—just little movements, whispers of life that reminded me with each brush that I was no longer just responsible for myself.
It was strange how those small kicks, barely noticeable at first, now anchored me. They were the rhythm of my days. My reason.
But Kendrick… he was something else entirely. A puzzle I had no idea
