A month had passed since the wedding, and the rhythm of life had begun to settle.
Gone were the tight schedules and hidden glances. Now, mornings began with soft kisses instead of urgent meetings, and nights ended with Sebastian's arms wrapped around Emilia's waist, grounding her like no one else ever could.
The morning light filtered through the soft linen curtains of their bedroom, golden and calm. Outside, the city stirred awake—but inside, Emilia stood frozen in their bathroom, one trembling hand covering her mouth.
On the counter in front of her sat a small, white stick. Two pink lines stared back at her.
She didn't move. Not yet. Her heart thundered, pounding like war drums in her chest as her mind spun.
She and Sebastian hadn't talked about it,
But life, as it often did, had its own timing.
A soft knock pulled her back. "Em?" Sebastian's voice was groggy, husky from sleep. "You okay?"
She opened the door slowly, and there he was—bare chest, messy hair, those sleepy eyes she loved. She didn't say anything. Just handed him the test.
He looked down, blinking slowly. Then again.
Silence.
Then… a breathless, rough laugh
"Are you serious?" he asked, but his voice cracked mid-sentence, betraying the storm of emotions crashing over him. His eyes, wide with disbelief and shimmering with something far too fragile to name, locked onto hers like they were clinging to the truth she had just spoken.
She didn't say a word at first. Just nodded, slowly—deliberately. Her lips trembled, but she bit her bottom lip to steady herself, her eyes never leaving his. "Looks like we're going to be three."
There was a second, just one, where time stood still.
And then he moved.
Two long strides were all it took. In an instant, he was there—wrapping his arms around her like the world might steal her away if he didn't hold on tight enough. His embrace was fierce, almost desperate, and yet impossibly tender. He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing at all, as if the weight of this miracle had made her float.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his breath warm and uneven, trembling against her skin. "You've just made me the happiest damn man alive," he whispered hoarsely, like speaking too loud would shatter the moment.
She closed her eyes, arms curling around his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair. She felt the way his chest heaved with each breath, the way his body tried to hold it together even as his soul trembled.
And there, in the middle of their bedroom—no audience, no fanfare—just the two of them suspended in a perfect, fragile moment, everything changed.
The world outside ceased to matter. The noise, the chaos, the scars they both carried from the past—it all melted into the silence of that embrace.
This was more than joy. More than anticipation.
This was healing.
This was redemption.
This was love—raw and unfiltered. The kind of love that took root in broken soil and still dared to bloom.
"I didn't think…" he began, then stopped, his voice catching in his throat. He pulled back slightly just to look at her, to memorize every curve of her face, every shimmer in her eyes. "I didn't think I'd get this. You. A family."
Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing away a single tear that had traced down his face. "Neither did I," she whispered. "But we survived everything. And now… now we get to build something. For us. For them."
Them.
A life they had created in love. A future growing quietly between them. A tiny heartbeat that would one day call them Mom and Dad.
He rested his forehead against hers, his hands gently settling over her abdomen, cradling the promise growing there . His lips brushed hers in a kiss—slow, reverent, and full of awe.
They stayed like that for a long time, saying nothing, letting the silence speak the words they couldn't quite form.
Their love had weathered storms.
But now… now they were stepping into something new. Not without fear, not without memories—but with hope. With strength.
They weren't just two people anymore.
They were a family.
They were a home.
They were a legacy.
And no matter what shadows lingered behind them, no matter who or what tried to come for what they had rebuilt—they would fight.
For each other.
For this love.
For the life blooming between them.
Because some things weren't just worth protecting.
They were worth everything.