(Emily's POV)."You sure you don't want to talk about your problem?" I asked once again, eyeing Mike as he leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples with that familiar look of exhaustion. His body language screamed that something was weighing on him.Mike shook his head, offering me a half-hearted smile. "There’s no problem, Love. I’m just tired, that’s all."I wasn’t buying it. Not this time. I knew him too well to be fooled by a simple shrug and forced grin. "You’ve been distant, Mike. I can feel it. If it’s something serious, you know you can tell me."He sighed, running a hand through his hair, which had grown a bit longer than usual. "I don’t want you worrying. Especially now with the baby on the way." His voice softened as if the mere mention of our baby was a shield to protect me from whatever it was he didn’t want to share.I folded my arms, standing in the kitchen doorway, watching him. He didn’t want to talk, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find a way to ease his
(Emily's POV)."Well, look who I met. It's my ex's wife!"The sharpness of Ellen’s voice hit me like a cold gust of wind, making me freeze for a moment. I was strolling through the shopping center, indulging in a bit of much-needed "me time." Mike had been sweet enough to encourage me to take a break, and I didn’t hesitate. I’d been craving some space, a little mental getaway from all the baby preparations, the constant flow of questions, and the never-ending advice from family and friends.But now, here was Ellen, Mike’s ex, standing before me like some dark cloud. Of all the people I could run into today, it had to be her.I glanced over at her, taking in her perfectly put-together appearance. She was dressed to kill, as usual. Her sleek, black designer outfit clung to her toned figure, and her heels were just high enough to make a statement. I almost rolled my eyes. Of course, she looked like a runway model even while shopping. I sighed inwardly. I wasn’t about to let her get to
(Emily’s POV) "Mike, I’m afraid you’re gonna leave me."The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But I couldn’t take them back. The fear that had been festering inside me ever since that encounter with Ellen finally spilled over. I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but the anxiety had been gnawing at me for days. No, weeks. And now, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.I suddenly wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly as if holding him close would somehow stop my fears from becoming a reality. My heart pounded in my chest, and I buried my face in his neck, willing the tears that threatened to spill to stay at bay. Mike didn’t flinch. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me immediately, pulling me onto his lap, his hands gently rubbing circles on my back. His touch was soothing, but the fear—the fear that had taken root in my heart—remained stubbornly in place."Hey, hey… Love, look at me," he said softly, his voice calm, but I could hear the worry behind it
(Emily’s POV).“It’s Christopher, Love. We can call him Chris or Christo.” Mike said, his voice a mix of pride and disbelief as he held our baby in his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off the tiny face peering up at us, his little mouth forming a soft O, as if he was ready to take on the world.That day, our son was born. The moment felt surreal, as though I was watching a scene unfold in a movie. Mike leaned down, kissing my forehead, and then my lips, a gentle whisper of gratitude spilling from his mouth. “Thank you for giving birth to Christopher.” Tears welled in my eyes, the emotions of the past hours crashing over me like waves. “I love you both so much,” I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a love I never knew could exist, so raw and overwhelming that it filled every corner of my heart.Mike watched me closely, his gaze tender yet filled with a mixture of awe and relief. He had been my rock through the storm of labor, his hands gripping mine as I fought through each wave
(Emily’s POV).“I finally can go home and bring our baby,” I said, my voice soft but filled with relief. “I feel so bored at the hospital.”Mike’s eyes, full of warmth and concern, never left my face. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with that gentle touch of his that always seemed to ground me. “Are you really okay?” His voice was laced with worry, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. He didn’t just ask because it was polite—he asked because he *needed* to know.I smiled, my heart swelling at the tenderness in his gaze. “Yes, Mike, I’m really okay. Christopher and I are more than ready to go home.”Even though I said the words, I could still see the lingering doubt in his eyes. He had been so protective, so attentive, ever since Christopher arrived. Every second, every small movement of mine, he was there, watching, making sure I didn’t lift a finger more than necessary. While I appreciated it more than he knew, sometimes it was a little overwhelmin
(Emily’s POV)."You're okay if I stay here for a while?"That was Laura's question as she leaned over the changing table, showing me how to properly secure the diaper around Christopher. Her hands moved with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her so naturally teaching me something that, just days ago, felt so intimidating.“Of course,” I replied with a soft laugh, glancing up from my son’s tiny form. “You’ve been a lifesaver. But... What about my dad? Who’s going to take care of him if you’re not around?” I asked with a teasing tone, giving her a playful nudge. Laura blushed immediately, her cheeks turning a delicate pink that made me chuckle under my breath. She was always so graceful, so composed, but the moment I brought up my father, she would get flustered. And I loved every second of it.“Emily…” she sighed, shaking her head but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Your father i
(Emily’s POV).“Do you want me to help you?” I asked Laura as I stepped into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and herbs filling the air. She was moving around gracefully, her sleeves rolled up, hands busy chopping vegetables, and the stovetop bubbling with what I assumed was her signature sauce.Laura turned her head, giving me that warm, knowing smile. "Are you sure Mike would be okay with that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought he didn't allow you to get tired with all these activities."I sighed softly, leaning against the counter for a moment. “He’s protective, yes… a little too protective sometimes,” I admitted with a slight shake of my head. "But cooking? It’s hardly abnormal. I’ve missed being in the kitchen. I miss cooking for Mike.”Laura chuckled, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Well, if you’re that eager to help, I won’t stop you.” She stepped aside slightly, gesturing to the cutting board. “Why don’t you chop the carrots? Yo
(Emily’s POV). “Do you want me to help you?” I asked Laura as I stepped into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and herbs filling the air. She was moving around gracefully, her sleeves rolled up, hands busy chopping vegetables, and the stovetop bubbling with what I assumed was her signature sauce. Laura turned her head, giving me that warm, knowing smile. "Are you sure Mike would be okay with that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought he didn't allow you to get tired with all these activities." I sighed softly, leaning against the counter for a moment. “He’s protective, yes… a little too protective sometimes,” I admitted with a slight shake of my head. "But cooking? It’s hardly abnormal. I’ve missed being in the kitchen. I miss cooking for Mike.” Laura chuckled, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Well, if you’re that eager to help, I won’t stop you.” She stepped aside slightly, gesturing to the cutting board. “Why don’t you chop