ONE

THALIA

Shopping for sexy nightwear alone should have felt embarrassing.

Instead, I found myself smiling.

My fingers drifted over rows of silk and lace as I moved slowly through the boutique. Black lace sets, satin slips, delicate babydolls—each piece more daring than the last.

Tonight was special.

Just a few hours ago, my doctor had given me the news I had been waiting years to hear.

My hormone levels had finally stabilized.

After endless treatments, injections, and more hospital visits than I cared to count, my body was finally ready.

I could carry a baby.

Even thinking about it made my heart flutter with excitement. I had walked out of the hospital feeling lighter than I had in years, as if the future had suddenly opened in front of me.

And the first thing I did?

I drove straight to the mall.

My husband and I had been married for five years.

It hadn’t started the way most love stories did.

Ours was an arranged marriage—two families, one decision, and a future neither of us had truly chosen at the time.

In the beginning, everything between us had been polite.

Distant.

Careful.

We lived in the same house, shared the same space, but there had always been an invisible line neither of us crossed.

But over the years… things had changed.

Slowly.

Subtly.

The distance had softened into familiarity.

The silence into something more comfortable.

There were moments—quiet ones—that made me believe we were building something real.

Not perfect.

But real.

And maybe… that was enough.

Still, there had always been one thing missing.

A baby.

We had tried before, many times, but each attempt ended with disappointment and another round of treatments. Still, I had never stopped believing that one day things would work out for us.

And now, finally, it seemed possible.

Tonight felt like a new beginning.

If everything went well… maybe soon there would be three of us instead of two.

I picked up a black lace set and held it against myself, glancing at my reflection in the mirror across the aisle.

Pretty.

But not quite right.

Tonight deserved something a little more unforgettable.

I had already walked past the same displays twice, picking up different pieces and imagining Brandon’s reaction to each one.

Would he smile?

Would he pull me closer?

Would he look at me the way husbands looked at their wives in movies—like they couldn’t get enough?

Just as I was about to place the set back, a warm voice spoke behind me.

“Hi, Mrs. Langford. Do you need any help today?”

I turned and found one of the salesgirls standing a few steps away. She looked young, probably in her early twenties, with bright eyes and a perfectly practiced professional smile.

Emily.

I remembered her name from a previous visit.

She had helped me once before.

Relief washed over me. “Yes, actually,” I said, offering a small smile. “I could really use some help.”

Her smile widened immediately.

“Of course. What are you looking for today?”

I hesitated for a second, then decided honesty was easier.

“Something special.”

Emily nodded as if she completely understood.

She scanned the rack before pulling out a piece and turning back to me.

“How about this one, ma’am?”

She held up a stunning red babydoll nightie.

The sheer fabric was trimmed with delicate black lace that curved along the neckline and hem. The deep crimson color was rich and bold, the kind that would glow against bare skin.

The straps were thin and fragile-looking, like they could slip off with the lightest touch.

My breath caught.

It was elegant.

Seductive.

Perfect.

A slow smile spread across my face.

“Yes,” I said softly. “That’s the one.”

Emily beamed. “Excellent choice. It will look beautiful on you.”

“I hope so,” I murmured.

She carefully folded the piece and led me toward the checkout counter.

At the register, she tapped a few keys before looking up.

“That comes to three hundred and fifty dollars, Mrs. Langford.”

I slid my black credit card across the counter without hesitation.

Money had never been something I worried about. And if something as simple as a nightgown could help make tonight memorable, it was worth far more than that.

The machine beeped softly.

Emily handed me the receipt, and I added a generous tip.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Thank you so much.”

“You made the process easier,” I said with a small laugh.

She placed the nightwear into a sleek black bag with the boutique’s gold logo shining across the front.

“I hope your evening turns out exactly the way you want it to.”

I smiled as I took the bag.

“So do I.”

A few minutes later, I stepped out of the boutique and into the lively hum of the mall.

People moved around me in busy clusters—families, couples, teenagers carrying shopping bags.

I headed toward the exit where Thomas would be waiting with the car.

My thoughts drifted back to the doctor’s words and the future they promised. I could almost picture it already.

A tiny hand gripping Brandon’s finger.

A nursery filled with soft blankets.

Our home echoing with laughter.

The sudden sound of a child’s laughter pulled me from my thoughts.

A little boy burst across the open courtyard ahead of me, dark curls bouncing as he ran.

“Daddy!” he shouted happily.

The word rang across the space like music.

I slowed automatically, smiling as the boy crashed into a tall man standing near one of the benches.

The man bent down instantly and scooped him into his arms.

“Whoa there,” he laughed.

The sound was deep, warm…

And strangely familiar.

He lifted the boy high into the air before pulling him into a tight hug. The child squealed with delight.

It was a beautiful moment.

For a second, I could almost picture Brandon doing the same thing with our child someday.

I turned slightly, about to walk away and give them their privacy.

Then the man shifted.

Just enough for the light to fall across his face.

My heart stopped.

That jawline.

Those broad shoulders beneath the crisp shirt.

That voice.

It was Brandon.

My Brandon.

My feet carried me a few steps closer before my mind could stop them.

Maybe I was mistaken.

Maybe it only looked like him.

But then he laughed again, tickling the boy’s stomach, and I knew.

Before I could call his name, a woman approached them.

She moved with quiet confidence, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.

Brandon looked up.

And the smile that spread across his face froze the blood in my veins.

It was warm.

Natural.

Effortless.

I squinted, trying to make out the woman’s face.

Then recognition slammed into me.

Clara Smith.

My childhood friend.

Brandon’s ex-girlfriend.

She rested a hand lightly on the little boy’s shoulder, and he leaned into Brandon’s chest, giggling as Brandon ruffled his curls.

The three of them stood there together beneath the bright mall lights.

The man.

The woman.

And the child between them.

For a brief, unbearable moment—

They looked exactly like a happy family.