Andrei sat at the edge of the sofa, watching Cristine from across the room. She was seated at the dining table, humming softly as she organized her new maternity clothes into neat piles. Her fingers lingered over a soft pink dress, her lips curving into a gentle smile. Andrei's chest tightened as he watched her, the warmth of her presence filling the room.
She was breathtaking—more so now with the quiet glow of impending motherhood radiating from her. But as much as he cherished this moment, the sight of Cristine inevitably dragged him back to the beginning, to the darker truths that had brought them to this point.
It had started two years ago, when Catalina had made a slip during a heated argument with Andrei's father. At the time, it had seemed like an inconsequential outburst—a fleeti
