Serena’s POV The morning light crept through the curtains, soft and golden. I sat on the edge of the bed, my back against the headboard, staring down at the tiny bundle in my arms. Astrid. My daughter. She was sleeping, her little pink lips parted just a bit, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. I still couldn’t believe it. After all those months of waiting, of feeling her kick inside me, of imagining what she would look like, here she was. Real. Warm. Perfect. Her skin was so soft, like the petal of a flower. Her tiny fingers curled into a fist against my chest. I touched her cheek with the back of my finger, and she stirred for a second, then settled back into sleep. Roman walked into the bedroom, a mug of tea in his hand. He set it on the nightstand, then sat down next to me. Without saying a word, he leaned over and kissed the top of Astrid’s head, then my forehead. His hand came to rest on my shoulder, warm and heavy. “She’s still sleeping,” he whispered, as
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