ALMOST PERFECT
Her breathing was deep and even, the sound of peace, the sound of a soul untroubled by the weight of its own treachery.
He turned his head very slowly, careful not to disturb her, and studied her profile in the weak light. Her lashes fanned against her cheek, dark and delicate. Her mouth was soft, slightly parted. The swell of her belly rose and fell beneath the comforter, their daughter tumbling and shifting within, blissfully unaware that her father had become a stranger to himself.
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