Emma’s POV
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. I could feel the weight of Luca’s body beside me, his steady breathing a comforting sound. It had been a long time since I had woken up to this peace—this quiet certainty that, no matter what happened, everything would be okay.
I shifted slightly in the bed, not wanting to disturb him, but craving the closeness that we shared. I rested my hand gently over my stomach, feeling the slight movement of the baby inside me. Our child. The child that had brought us closer, and in a way, had healed so many wounds between us.
The events of the past few days seemed so far away now. The tension, the fear, the uncertainties—they all felt distant, replaced by something else. Something tangible. Something real.
I glanced at Luca, his face relaxed in sleep, the hard lines of his jaw softened in a moment of vulnerability. It was a side of him I didn’t often get to see. The Luca I knew was the
