Lahat ng Kabanata ng In the Arms of the Enemy’s Brother : Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

Serena’s POV The alarm on my phone buzzes softly from the nightstand, pulling me from a dream where I'm arranging bolts of silk in endless rows. I reach out, my arm heavy like it's filled with sand, and silence it with a tap. The room is still dim, the early morning light just starting to peek around the edges of the heavy curtains Roman hung last summer. He said they would block out the street noise, and they do, but this morning, I wish for a bit more brightness to jolt me awake. I lie there, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above. Normally, by now, I'd be up, feet hitting the cool hardwood floor, heading to the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee before diving into the day. But today, my body refuses to move. It's as if every muscle has decided to stage a quiet rebellion, pinning me down under the soft weight of the duvet. I blink a few times, willing myself to sit up, but a wave of tiredness crashes over me, deeper than any late night at the shop has ever caused. The s

Serena’s POV The moment I found out I was pregnant, everything in my body seemed to change all at once. Right after that, the symptoms hit me hard. It was like my body knew and decided to make it real. Morning sickness started that same day. I felt nauseous all the time, but worst in the mornings. I would wake up, and before I even got out of bed, my stomach would churn. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. It was not just once. It happened every morning. Sometimes two or three times. My vomit was mostly bile because I could not keep anything down. Eating became impossible. I barely ate anything. Food that I loved before now made me gag. The smell of it was the worst. Even the smell of toast or eggs, which Roman made for breakfast, sent me running. I hated the smell of coffee, which I used to drink every day. Chicken, my favorite, now smelled rotten to me. I tried crackers or ginger ale, things people say help, but even those turned my stomach. I lost weight fast. In one week, I dro

Serena’s POV I shifted my weight, leaning back against the plush velvet sofa, and let out a long, slow breath. I looked down at the curve of my stomach, which now dominated my view whenever I looked down. I rested my palms on the warm, stretched skin of my bump, feeling the heavy, solid weight of the little life growing inside me.For a moment, I just sat there in the silence of the living room, letting the feeling sink in. I was actually doing this. I was surviving.My mind drifted back to those first few months, the dark, grueling days of the first trimester. I closed my eyes, and I could almost smell it again: that metallic, sour scent that seemed to cling to everything and make my stomach flip. I remembered the mornings when I wouldn't even make it to the bathroom before I was retching, my throat burning, my body shaking with exhaustion. There were days when I felt like a ghost in my own home, pale and trembling, wondering if my body would ever stop fighting against the pregnancy

Serena’s POV I can't remember the last time I saw my own feet.That thought drifts through my mind as I stand in the doorway of what used to be our spare room, one hand braced against the frame, the other resting on the impossibly hard curve of my belly. The baby, our baby girl is pressing up against my ribs again, a familiar ache that I've grown almost fond of. Almost. I shift my weight and feel a dull twinge in my lower back, the kind that's become my constant companion these past few weeks. The nursery is coming together. Roman is on his knees in the center of the room, a screwdriver in one hand and a piece of instructions crumpled in the other. He's muttering to himself, the way he always does when he's trying to assemble something, and there's a smudge of dust on his cheek that I want to wipe away. The crib is mostly done, a beautiful white wooden frame with delicate carvings along the headboard, the mattress already in place and covered with a soft floral sheet. The changing

Serena’s POV The first thing I felt was the pressure. A deep, heavy ache low in my belly, like something was twisting and pulling from the inside. It woke me from a dream I couldn't remember, pulling me up through layers of sleep until my eyes blinked open into the dark. The room was quiet. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, casting a soft orange glow through the curtains. I was on my side, facing the window, and Roman's arm was draped across my waist, his breath slow and steady against the back of my neck. He was still asleep. His hand rested gently on the swell of my belly, like even in sleep he wanted to be close to her. I stayed still for a moment, waiting. The ache was fading now, melting away like it had never been there. Just a cramp, I told myself. Probably just Braxton Hicks. The doctor had warned me about false labor. I'd been having them for weeks now, tightening in my belly that came and went, uncomfortable but not serious. I shifted, trying to find a mo