Baby bump

Steam curls lazily toward the ceiling, carrying the soft scent of lavender and crushed herbs. The bath chamber is warm, almost too warm and for a moment I simply sit in the tub, letting the heat seep into my bones.

Aria kneels beside me, sleeves rolled up, dark hair tied back neatly. She pours warm water over my shoulders, her movements practiced and gentle, like she’s done this a hundred times before.

“Lean forward a little,” she says softly.

I do, and she begins to scrub my back with a cloth, careful but thorough.

I sigh without meaning to. “This still feels unreal.”

Aria smiles. “The bath or the soft life?”

“Both,” I admit.

She laughs quietly and moves to my hair, working scented soap into my scalp. Her fingers are firm, soothing.

“You know,” I say after a moment, “back at my aunt’s place, there was no tub. Just a deep well behind the house.”

Aria pauses. “A well?”

I nod. “Far back. Hidden behind old trees. I used to fetch water every morning and evening. Even in winter.”

Her eyes