Martina’s POV“Look at him, Martina…” Dante’s voice is low, almost like he’s afraid to say it too loud, like the moment might break if he does.I shift slightly in the rocking chair, the soft creak filling the quiet nursery as I look over at him. The rain taps gently against the window behind him, steady and calm, nothing like the chaos we left behind. It’s the kind of sound that makes everything feel slower, softer, like the world finally decided to breathe.Dante stands by the window, one hand resting lightly against the frame, the other hanging at his side.I watch him for a second before answering, my voice quiet.“I am looking.” He lets out a small breath, almost like a laugh but not quite, and shakes his head slightly.“No,” he murmurs. “Not like this.”He turns away from the window slowly, his gaze moving back to the crib in the center of the room.“Look at him.”There’s something in his voice that makes my chest tighten.I push myself up from the chair, my body still sore, st
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