All Chapters of One pregnancy, two babies : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The kindergarten gate buzzed with its usual afternoon chaos—children laughing, parents calling names, backpacks swinging wildly as small bodies rushed toward familiar arms.Aria spotted them first.“MUM!” she squealed, her voice cutting through the noise like a bell.She came flying, pigtails bouncing, and May barely had time to crouch before Aria launched herself straight into her arms.“You’re early!” Aria declared happily. “You never come this early on work days!”May laughed softly, tightening her hold. “We wrapped up faster today.”Aiden walked toward them more slowly, his backpack neatly settled on his shoulders. His eyes flicked from May to Damien, something thoughtful settling on his face.“You both look… different,” he said.Damien crouched to his level. “Different how?”Aiden considered. “Like when people finish fixing something.”May’s breath caught.She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a very good observation.”Aiden nodded, satisfied.As they walked

Monday morning arrived without ceremony.No thunder.No dread.Just sunlight slipping through the curtains and the low hum of a house that had learned its rhythm.May was already awake when Damien stepped into the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair still slightly damp from his shower. She stood by the counter, reviewing notes on her tablet, a mug of tea steaming beside her.“You’re up early,” he said.She glanced at the clock. “Old habit.”He moved closer, peering at the screen. “You didn’t have to prepare this much.”She smiled faintly. “I like knowing where I’m going before I get there.”He nodded. “That’s one of the things that makes you dangerous.”She arched a brow. “Is that a compliment?”“Always.”Before she could respond, Aria padded in, dragging her backpack behind her like it weighed more than she did.“Mum,” she announced seriously, “today is sharing day.”May crouched immediately. “And what are you sharing?”Aria pulled out a folded piece of paper. A drawing—four stick figur

The morning began with a small argument over socks.Aiden insisted the blue pair was more appropriate for Friday.Aria insisted the pink ones had “better luck.”May watched them from the doorway, coffee warming her hands, a quiet smile curving her lips.“Compromise,” Damien suggested from behind her, already adjusting his cufflinks. “Blue socks today, pink tomorrow.”Aria considered this gravely. “Okay. But only because tomorrow is special.”Aiden nodded. “Agreed.”May turned to Damien. “You’re good at this.”He shrugged lightly. “I’m learning from the best.”She met his eyes—soft, steady—and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them standing in the hallway of a home that finally felt lived in.At kindergarten, excitement buzzed through the air.Family Day had left its mark, but today brought something new: Show & Tell Week. Each child would bring something meaningful from home.Aria bounced in place as May knelt to straighten her dress. “I’m bringing the picture we dre

Aiden woke up before the house.He lay still for a moment, listening.There was no tension in the air—no sharp voices, no hurried footsteps, no sense that the day would require him to be careful.Just quiet.From down the hall came the faint clink of a mug against a counter. A soft voice—May’s—humming under her breath.Aiden sat up slowly.He padded into the hallway, pausing outside Aria’s room. She was still asleep, one arm flung dramatically over her pillow, hair tangled, utterly unbothered by the world.He smiled faintly.In the kitchen, May turned when she sensed him.“You’re up early,” she said gently.“I couldn’t sleep,” Aiden replied, not as a complaint—just a fact.She poured him a glass of warm milk and slid it across the counter. “Sit with me.”He did.For a while, neither of them spoke.Then Aiden asked quietly, “Do things stay like this?”May didn’t answer too fast.She turned toward him fully. “Things change,” she said honestly. “But what we build—what we protect—that sta

Hostel life had its own rhythm.The buzzing of girls’ voices down the corridor. The faint scent of perfume mixed with laundry detergent. Midnight giggles. Shared secrets. Borrowed clothes that were never returned.Lily had adjusted quickly.Unlike May, who carried quiet storms behind her calm eyes, Lily burned brighter. She laughed louder. Walked faster. Lived like she was racing something invisible.Her room sat at the end of the second-floor corridor — two beds, one desk, fairy lights strung carelessly along the wall. Her roommate, Amara, was sweet but dramatic, always narrating her life like it was a reality show.“Lily,” Amara whispered one evening, peeking through the curtain, “he’s outside again.”Lily didn’t look up from her book.“Who?”Amara turned slowly. “Don’t act clueless. Him.”Lily sighed and stood.She moved to the window casually, as if she hadn’t already noticed.There he was.Leaning against a sleek black car that didn’t belong on a school campus.Arin Vale.Final y