LOGINGwen's POV The road to the estate felt shorter than it really was. Maybe because this time, no one was heading there in a rush to escape something. Nick drove with both hands steady on the wheel, eyes sharp, but his body no longer carried that hospital tension. This was different. A quieter kind of pressure. The kind that comes with bringing something fragile into a place that has to learn how to be home. Clara slept in my arms, wrapped in soft fabric, her lips slightly parted like even breathing was still new to her. I watched her constantly, like my eyes were her personal security system. In the front seat, Bella had climbed into Nick's lap at the last second before we got out of the car, stubborn and clingy in that way only a happy child can be. He didn't complain. Just wrapped an arm around her and held her like it was natural to carry one daughter against his chest and another in his wife's arms. When we stopped in front of the house, no one spoke for a moment. The r
Gwen's POV There was a kind of silence that only existed in the middle of the night. A comforting silence. Even with the lights on and the hospital still running, the world felt stripped down to the essentials. The low hum of the air conditioning. The distant beep of a monitor. The soft shuffle of nurses moving through the halls like they were carrying the balance of the world on their shoulders. I sat in bed with Clara in my arms. Her tiny face was a collection of details I tried to memorize, even though I knew I couldn't. The little mouth. The skin still carrying that just-arrived-into-the-world tone. The delicate nose. The heavy eyelids opening and closing like she was testing out her own body. Nick sat beside me, leaning against the headboard, his arm stretched behind me in a quiet, protective gesture. He didn't say much. He just looked. Like silence was the most honest way to say, I don't believe this and I do at the same time. "You okay?" he asked softly. I
Nick's POV I'd spent my whole life training myself to stay in control—out in the fields, in the cellar, with the accounts, through every disaster. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for the moment when the entire world turned into one single arrow pointing to one place: The hospital. Now. I didn't remember getting off the stage. I remembered hands pulling back. Someone making space. Christian saying something that didn't register. Zoey already on the phone, terrifyingly efficient. I remember Martina's face—pale with shock but steady with authority—pulling Bella close. "I've got her," Martina said. "Go." Bella grabbed her grandmother's dress with both hands, her eyes wide, but she didn't cry. She just looked at me and Gwen with that quiet kind of courage only kids have. "Go with Mommy," she said. I wanted to answer. To kiss her forehead. To tell her everything would be okay. But "okay" was in the car. In Gwen's seatbelt. In getting there as fast as possible wi
Gwen's POV Florentia had a way of making everything feel bigger. The lights always seemed more intentional. Every place carried enough history to feel like a set. Even the sound of people talking held a kind of beauty. Right at the entrance of the event, I felt that sense of scale. The flow of guests. The understated carpet. The carefully positioned photographers pretending to be there by chance, even though they already knew exactly who they wanted to capture. The wall with the name of the line in elegant lettering—Valemont Line by Kensington—and beside it, the label blown up like it was a piece of art. And maybe it was. I smoothed my dress with a small gesture and took a deep breath before stepping in. Nick stood beside me, impeccable and very aware of himself in that space, like every step had to prove he belonged there. I laced my fingers through his. "Breathe," I murmured. "I am breathing," he said, but his voice came out tight. I almost smiled. "Then make it
Gwen's POV I learned that routine isn't the absence of emotion. It's emotion, tamed. Put to work quietly, without making a scene. While Nick went back to dealing with his problems, I took Bella—and within two minutes, we were already heading to the car. She claimed the backseat like she owned it. Dropped her backpack onto her lap, glanced out the window, then studied me through the rearview mirror. "Mom," she called, in the same tone she'd use to ask the time. "Hmm?" "When is my baby sister going to be born?" I let out a breath that was half laugh, half surrender. "What's the rush?" "Because your belly is already huge," she said, pointing with zero delicacy. Then she added, like it was a compliment, "Like… really huge." "Wow. Thank you for the kindness," I replied, feigning offense. Bella burst out laughing. "It's true." "It is true," I admitted. "Not much longer now. Soon enough, you'll get to meet her." Her eyes lit up. "I told Julia," she said, like s
Nick's POV The Valement Estate had a sound. Not just one clear, recognizable noise you could identify with your eyes closed. It was a blend of smaller sounds that came together and turned into a rhythm. The gate creaking open at dawn. Tires crunching over gravel. Quick footsteps echoing down the service hallway. The soft clink of dishes in the kitchen. The coffee machine running nonstop. Wood groaning under footsteps that no longer tried to be careful, because this place had stopped being a project and become a home. And it had a scent. Strong coffee. Warm bread. Ripe grapes that lingered in the air even out of season. The clean smell of freshly pressed laundry drifting from somewhere. That standard hotel soap Martina had approved with all the seriousness of a board meeting. As I crossed the courtyard, I could still catch the faint scent of cold stone beneath it all. A reminder that these walls had history. By the time I walked into the kitchen, the routine was already in mot
The inside of the jet was even more impressive than I'd imagined. The main cabin felt less like transportation and more like a luxury apartment cruising at forty thousand feet. Cream-colored leather seats turned into beds at the touch of a button. Polished mahogany tables slid out of the walls when
The third week of treatment was being especially brutal. My body felt like it had declared war on itself. It was swelling in places I didn't even know could swell, mood swings that had me crying over toilet paper commercials, and breast tenderness so bad that even hugs were uncomfortable. I was stre
Before either of us could move toward the door, Tori sprinted through the kitchen, calling out cheerfully, "I've got it! Family backup!" Nate and I exchanged confused looks, but the sound of familiar voices and laughter drifting in from the entryway quickly cleared things up. A few minutes later,
Before I could say anything else, Nate pulled me into a tight hug, lifting me slightly off the floor as he celebrated my answer. I felt his strong arms around my waist, his laughter vibrating against my chest in a way that made me completely melt. "I'd already mentally prepared an entire persuasio







