LOGINCiara’s PovThe full-length mirror in the first store was unforgiving under the bright lights. I stood in a soft gray sweater and high-waisted jeans that actually closed without a fight, turning sideways for the third time.Cain sat on the small bench outside the fitting area with Rose asleep in the carrier against his chest. He looked up when I stepped out and went still in that quiet way of his.“That one,” he said simply. “Keep it.”I tugged at the hem. “It’s just a sweater.”“It fits you. You look comfortable in it. That’s the point.”Seraphine appeared around the corner with an armful of hangers and zero patience. “Absolutely not. We are not stopping at ‘comfortable.’ I found the good rack. Come on.”She pushed three bolder pieces into my hands before I could argue: a deep green wrap dress, a structured blazer in black, and a pair of wide-leg trousers that looked like they belonged on someone who had her life together.“Seraphine—”“Try them. I’m serious. You’ve been living in Ca
Ciara’s POV Rose woke just after five, the soft, insistent sound that had become the real start of our day. I reached her before the cry could fully form, lifting her against my chest while Cain shifted behind me in the bed.“I’ve got the bottles,” he mumbled, already swinging his legs out.“Stay. I can do this one.”He ignored me, of course. By the time I finished the diaper change he was in the kitchen warming the bottle, hair sticking up, wearing the same sweatpants he’d thrown on at two in the morning. We moved around each other without talking much. The quiet felt practiced now. Not empty. Just known.I settled into the corner of the couch with Rose. She latched easily, one small hand resting against my skin. Cain set a glass of water beside me and kissed the top of my head before disappearing back toward the bedroom to catch another hour. The sky outside was still dark. The house smelled like milk and the faint leftover scent of last night’s laundry.This was the routine. Messy
Ciara’s POV Rose could hold her head up now. She tracked our voices across the room and made these bright, demanding sounds that felt like the beginning of real conversation. The days still blurred sometimes, but the blur had shape. Morning feed. Walk if the weather held. Nap. Therapy on Tuesdays and Fridays. Dinner that wasn’t always eaten cold. Nighttime routine that no longer felt like pure survival.I stood at the changing table one afternoon and realized I wasn’t bracing for the next disaster. I was just… present. That scared me almost as much as the hard days used to.Cain found me there, one hand resting on Rose’s belly while she kicked.“You’re quiet,” he said.“I want to start something.” I glanced over my shoulder. “A weekly photo. Same spot on the rug, same time if we can manage it. And a short letter to her. Nothing fancy. Just… proof we were here. That we noticed.”He studied me for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”We started that same day. Cain laid the soft
Ciara’s POV Alice arrived first, already cooing before she even fully stepped inside. Seraphine followed with a oversized tote bag that looked like it could supply a small daycare.“Hand her over,” Seraphine said, holding out both arms. “Auntie duty starts now. We’ve got bottles, the emergency contact list, and zero intention of texting you every five minutes even though I know you’re going to spiral.”I hesitated with Rose against my chest. The anxiety hit harder than I expected. A few hours. That was all. Still, the idea of walking out the door without her made my stomach twist.Cain’s hand settled on the back of my neck, warm and steady. “She’s in good hands. We can leave. We can come back early if you need. No pressure.”Alice gently took Rose. The baby blinked up at her and then settled like she’d been waiting for this exact pair of arms. Traitor.“Go,” Alice said softly. “We’ve got her. I promise.”Seraphine waved us toward the door. “Seriously. Leave. Drink something. Touch ea
Ciara’s POV Rose’s nose was running by morning. Nothing dramatic. A little congestion, a slightly warmer forehead, the kind of mild cold every baby seemed to catch once the weather shifted. I wiped her face for the tenth time and settled her against my chest while she fussed.Cain stood in the doorway like the floor might give out.“We’re taking her in,” he said.I looked up. “It’s a cold. The pediatrician’s nurse already said monitor it and keep her hydrated. We’ve done this.”“She’s three months old. Her immune system is still—” He stopped himself, jaw tight. “I’m not sitting around waiting for it to get worse.”“Cain.” I kept my voice steady. “Hovering won’t make the virus leave faster. You’re scaring yourself.”He didn’t answer. Just paced. Checked the thermostat. Re-checked the humidifier. Picked up his phone like he might call the after-hours line again even though we’d already spoken to them an hour ago.By midday the tension in the house felt thicker than the steam from the h
Ciara’s POV Mornings had a rhythm now. Feed Rose. Change her. Let Cain take the early stretch so I could shower without listening for every small sound. The house still smelled like baby lotion and coffee. It felt less like survival and more like a life we were choosing on purpose.I started walking in the mornings. Nothing intense. Just the loop around our neighborhood with the stroller while Cain handled a call or finished the overnight bottles. The first few days my body complained. Soft stomach. Tight hips. The lingering awareness that everything sat differently now. But the movement helped. Air in my lungs. Blood moving. A quiet reminder that I still lived in this body and it was still capable.Therapy was new. Video sessions twice a week from the spare room while Rose napped. The therapist had a calm voice and a way of asking questions that didn’t let me hide behind “I’m fine.” We talked about the years of shrinking myself. About duty dressed up as love. About the fear that pea
Ciara's POV I gulp. My legs are trembling. I'm breathing too fast. I can't look at him and not remember last night how I shamelessly came alive and gosh... My panties are sticky to my inner thighs. He puts his hands around my waist to settle me as he lowers his face to my chin, trailing his
Ciara's POV "Baby, must you go to work today?" I pout at Simon as we stood facing each other in the center of the room. "Of course I have to, darling, and you know that," he says impatiently. "It wouldn't tell well of me to sit at home a day after my dad's birthday celebration." I bit my l
CAIN'S POV I walked toward Ciara, but Simon quickly intercepted, running his hands all over her body and inquiring if she'd be okay. I step back. I had greeted my dad earlier and my mother wasn't even there. I think I'm done with this party too. I head downstairs to the first floor—still crowd
CAIN POV From the distance where I'm sitting, I watch Ciara tug a stray red lock behind her ears— the same nervous habit she had seven years ago. Some things about her never changed, not even after marrying my brother. She forces a fake smile as she bends to greet the guests, offering me an e







