The weekend came quietly, cloaked in soft London rain and the hum of normal life—but nothing about Aria's life felt normal anymore. Not since the flicker on that screen. Not since she heard the rush of a heartbeat that didn't belong to her… and yet did, completely.
She stood in the middle of the apartment's second bedroom—technically her office, though she rarely worked in it—and stared at the piles of books, half-packed art supplies, and a forgotten easel covered with a dustcloth.
Leon stepped into the doorway behind her, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other. His brows lifted as he took in the chaos.
"You're nesting already?" he teased, but gently.
Aria turned. "I just—was thinking. If we're staying here for a while, we'll need to make space."
He handed her the coffee and looked around. "We'll do more than make space," he said after a beat. "We'll build it. Properly. Whatever you need—nursery, new layout, furniture—we'll make it happen."
She sipped and gave him a look. "Leon, this apartment isn't even that big."
"Then we get a bigger one."
"Can we slow down just a little?"
He smiled but didn't argue. "We'll take it one room at a time. Starting with this one."
Aria hesitated, then stepped over to the window, pulling back the curtain. Below, London glistened in the drizzle—grey but alive. The kind of day she would have called uninspiring once. Now it felt soft. Gentle. Full.
"We don't need much," she said finally, quietly. "Just space to breathe. And a place that feels like… ours. All three of us."
Leon came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "It already does."
She leaned back into him. "We'll need a crib. And storage. And… oh God, do we need a changing table?"
He chuckled. "We can hire someone to help with the list."
She twisted to face him. "I want to do some of it myself. Not all of it, just… I want to be part of the making. Does that make sense?"
"It does," he said. "More than you know."
They stood in silence a moment, the only sound the low patter of rain against the glass.
"I've never had to make room for anyone before," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Not like this."
"You don't have to make room, Aria." Leon met her gaze, steady and sure. "This baby was never intruding. This was always going to be home."
Her throat tightened, but she nodded. He wasn't just trying to say the right thing—he meant it. Every word.
Later that afternoon, she found herself curled on the living room floor with swatches of color palettes and catalogues scattered around them. Leon had his sleeves rolled up, his phone open to some high-end design app, already requesting quotes and making notes.
"I'm not doing a theme," she muttered, eyeing a pastel safari set with suspicion.
"Agreed," Leon said dryly. "This child will not be surrounded by cartoon giraffes."
She laughed—a proper laugh—and it startled them both.
It felt like the beginning of something. Not just a nursery. Not just preparing for a baby.
But beginning to live like they already were a family.
One chapter closed with a heartbeat.
This one began with making room for a future.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there, just wanted to say there's a big surprising twist coming along in the next update , and you wouldn't want to miss it 😋😋😋😋😋😋