جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 130

The morning sunlight spilled into the villa, warming the room in gentle gold. I stirred slowly, half-asleep, feeling the familiar weight of Ezekiel’s body against mine. His arm was draped possessively across my waist, and his breathing was steady, calm an anchor I had grown used to over these past days. I could feel him before I even opened my eyes. The subtle tension in his posture, the slight curl of his fingers around me, the way his leg brushed mine under the blanket. Ezekiel was always aware, always alert, even in moments that seemed soft and quiet. “Morning,” I whispered, my voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” he replied, voice low, deep, brushing against my ear. His lips grazed my temple. “Sleep well?” I nodded, closing my eyes again for a brief moment, savoring the warmth. “Mm… yes.” He didn’t let go. Not immediately. Not until I shifted slightly, turning to face him. His gaze caught mine, dark and unyielding, and I felt that familiar stir of both fear and desire. Posses

The house was quiet that morning.Too quiet.Not the kind of silence that felt peaceful… but the kind that made you aware of every small sound your breathing, your heartbeat, even the faint ticking of the clock somewhere in the hallway.I shifted slightly in bed, pressing a hand against my stomach.It had been months.Months since everything changed.Months since I found out I was carrying a life inside me.And yet… every morning still felt new.Unfamiliar.Real.A soft breath escaped my lips as I slowly sat up. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room but it did little to ease the heaviness in my body.The dizziness came first.Then the nausea.I closed my eyes briefly, steadying myself.“Amethyst.”His voice.Low.Alert.I didn’t even hear him wake up.I turned slightly.Ezekiel was already sitting up beside me, his eyes locked on me with that same intensity he always had but now, there was something else layered beneath it.Concern.Sharp. Imm

Ezekiel POV Something about time stopped feeling real after everything changed. Days blended into weeks, and weeks blurred into months, until I stopped counting them individually and started measuring everything by one constant thing. Amethyst. Her presence in my life had become the only stable point in a world that never paused for anything. The pregnancy had changed her but not in the way I initially expected. She wasn’t weaker. She wasn’t fragile. If anything, she became more aware of herself, more grounded in the life she was carrying. And I noticed everything. The way she would wake up slightly slower in the mornings now, one hand almost always resting on her stomach as if instinctively protecting what was inside. The way she would breathe deeper when she was tired but still refused to stop moving completely. The way her eyes would soften whenever she felt the baby move. I used to think control was about power. About strategy. About staying ahead of everything. Bu

AMETHYST POV Time had a strange way of moving now. Before, every day felt like a race meetings, decisions, responsibilities, survival. Now… Everything slowed down. Not because life became easier. But because I finally learned where to look. Sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows of our home, spilling warmth across the living room floor. I stood by the doorway for a moment, quietly watching the scene in front of me. Ezekiel was on the couch. Our daughter cradled carefully in his arms. His large frame looked almost out of place against something so small and delicate but the way he held her… It was the complete opposite. Gentle. Careful. Certain. “Easy,” he murmured softly, adjusting the baby’s position slightly. “I’ve got you.” I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms loosely as I watched him. A small smile formed on my lips. Months ago, if someone had told me that the same man who once tried to control everything around him would be sitting there whispe

Hi This is one of the hardest letters I’ve had to write. Not because I don’t know what to say but because I know that no matter how carefully I choose my words, it won’t fully make up for the silence I left behind. To those of you who followed the story of Lucas Villarreal and Joanna Wilson… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the updates that stopped coming. I’m sorry for the unanswered questions, the unfinished moments, and the story that seemed to pause without warning. And most of all, I’m sorry for making you wait. I know that when you invest your time in a story, it becomes more than just something to read. It becomes something you look forward to. Something you carry with you. Something that lingers in your thoughts long after you’ve put your phone down or closed the page. Lucas and Joanna were never just characters. They were a story that many of you believed in. A story you rooted for. A story you stayed for. And I understand how frustrating and even disappointing it must ha