MasukLila stood in the nursery at thirty weeks, one hand on her lower back, the other cradling the heavy curve of her belly. The baby was big now, pressing against her ribs and making every movement slower, more deliberate. She had been feeling Braxton Hicks contractions for days — tight, uncomfortable squeezes that reminded her the due date was getting closer.Marcus walked in carrying a glass of cold water and a small bowl of cut fruit. He set them down and immediately came to her side, his hands sliding around her waist to support her.“You’ve been on your feet too long,” he said gently, guiding her to the rocking chair they had just assembled. “Sit. Let me take care of you.”Lila sank into the chair with a sigh of relief. The baby kicked hard, as if protesting the movement, and she smiled tiredly. “They’re running out of space in there. I think they’re ready to meet us.”Marcus knelt in front of her, his large hands covering her belly. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tight skin,
Lila stood on the terrace at dusk, the city lights beginning to flicker on below like a slow awakening. At twenty-eight weeks, her belly was round and heavy, the baby’s movements strong and frequent. She rested both hands on the curve, feeling a firm kick against her palm. A small smile touched her lips.“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” she whispered.Marcus stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his large hands covering hers on her belly. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, then rested his chin on her shoulder.“Feeling them tonight?” he asked, voice low and warm.“Non-stop,” Lila replied. “They’ve been dancing since I woke up from my nap. I think they know their dad is close.”Marcus chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her back. He rubbed slow circles over her belly, and the baby kicked again, harder this time, as if responding to his touch.“They already know who their father is,” he murmured. “They’re going to be strong. Just like you.”
Lila lay on the examination table, the cool gel on her belly making her shiver slightly. At twenty-five weeks, the baby was growing fast. The ultrasound technician moved the wand slowly, and the strong, steady heartbeat filled the room like a drum.*Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*Marcus sat beside her, one hand gripping hers tightly, the other resting on her shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the screen, completely mesmerized by the image of their child — tiny fists, kicking legs, a perfect profile.“Everything looks excellent,” the doctor said with a warm smile. “Growth is right on track. Heart rate is strong. You’re doing great, Lila. Keep resting when you need to, and stay hydrated.”Lila let out a shaky breath of relief. The baby kicked hard as if celebrating the good news, and she laughed softly, tears pricking her eyes. Marcus leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her belly, whispering something only the three of them could share.On the drive home, Marcus kept one hand on her thi
Lila stood in the middle of her new office on the 32nd floor of Hale Global Tower, sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The space was hers — completely hers. Marcus had surprised her with it two days after the trial ended. A sleek, modern office with a private lounge, a small nursery corner already being prepared, and a nameplate on the door that read “Lila Hale, Founder & Creative Director.”She ran her fingers over the smooth wooden desk, heart full. Her event-planning business had exploded after the trial. Clients who once hesitated now wanted the woman who had stood up in court and chosen love over fear. Three major galas were already booked for next quarter, and a luxury brand had approached her for a year-long partnership.The baby kicked hard, as if celebrating with her. At twenty-four weeks, the movements were stronger now, little reminders that their family was growing. Lila smiled and rubbed her belly gently.“You like the new office, d
The morning after the verdict felt different.Lila woke slowly in the penthouse bedroom, sunlight spilling across the sheets in soft golden waves. For the first time in months, there was no immediate knot of dread in her chest. The lawsuit was over. Tyler had lost. The judge had made it clear: no asset freeze, no public shaming of their family, and a strong warning against further harassment.She placed both hands on her belly. At twenty-three weeks, the baby was strong and active, kicking often as if celebrating with her. The movement made her smile, a soft, genuine smile that reached her eyes.Marcus stirred beside her, his arm sliding around her waist, hand instinctively finding her rounded stomach. He pressed a slow kiss to her shoulder, then lower to the curve of her belly.“Good morning, my loves,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep. “How are my two favorite people today?”Lila turned toward him, her fingers threading through his silver-threaded hair. “Better. Much better
The courtroom was packed on the first day of the full trial. Cameras lined the back wall, permitted by the judge despite Victoria’s best efforts. The air felt thick with tension, whispers, and the occasional flash from phones trying to capture every moment.Lila sat beside Marcus at the defendant’s table, her hand resting on the prominent curve of her belly. At twenty weeks, the pregnancy was impossible to hide. The baby kicked often, strong little movements that grounded her whenever the anxiety threatened to rise. She wore a tailored maternity dress in soft cream, elegant and professional, chosen to show strength rather than vulnerability.Marcus’s hand covered hers under the table, thumb stroking slow, steady circles. He looked calm on the outside — sharp black suit, silver-threaded hair perfectly styled — but she could feel the protective tension in his body.“You okay?” he whispered, leaning close enough that only she could hear.Lila nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m ready.”Tyle







