Day forty felt like the first real shift in the fragile rhythm we had built. The mist had burned off by mid-morning, leaving Willow Creek bright and green, but the air inside the house on Maple Lane carried a new tension. Amina had texted the night before: “Dinner tonight. Same time. I have something important to tell you both. Porch if it’s nice.”
Elias read the message while I was still curled against his chest in bed. His arm tightened around me instantly, that familiar clingy grip turning almost protective. His hazel eyes darkened with worry.
“She has something important to tell us,” he murmured, voice low. “After all the hard conversations… this could be bigger.”
He didn’t wait for more words. He rolled me onto my back and pushed inside me in one deep thrust, both of us groaning at
