I apologize for not updating yesterday as something came up so I'll add the two chapters from the skipped update today, hope for your understanding 😥😥😥
chapter(1/2)
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It started with a notebook.
A small, soft-covered journal Aria kept on her nightstand—its pages slowly filling with name ideas, half-thoughts scribbled in the middle of the night, sometimes little sketches of onesies or nursery ideas in the margins. She didn't tell Leon at first. Not because she meant to keep it from him, but because it felt like something sacred. Private.
But one quiet morning, with soft rain brushing against the windows and the scent of lemon tea curling in the air, Leon caught her bent over the pages, nibbling at her pen and frowning like the fate of the universe rested on one syllable.
He leaned over her shoulder. "Still trying to name a board of directors in there?"
She startled, then laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. "No. Just… trying to find the right names. I want them to mean something."
Leon sat beside her, close enough that their knees brushed. "You could name one after my grandfather. He was a decent bastard."
She arched a brow. "Decent and a bastard?"
He shrugged. "He told me never to lie."
Aria rolled her eyes but smiled as she handed him the notebook. "Be serious, Leon."
"I am." He flipped through the pages. Neat cursive gave way to chicken scratch and tiny hearts next to a few names. He paused on one. "Emilia?"
"I always liked that name," she admitted softly. "It was my grandmother's."
"And this?" He pointed to a list labeled "Boys – Still Undecided." There were more question marks than names.
She sighed. "It's harder than I thought. Nothing feels right yet."
He set the notebook down, then turned to face her fully. "We'll figure it out together. No pressure."
She nodded, her fingers curling into his shirt as he kissed her forehead.
Later that afternoon, after a short walk in the park and a visit from a midwife who gently scolded Aria for doing too much, they lay curled together on the couch. Aria's feet rested in Leon's lap as he read a baby care book aloud in the most serious, businesslike tone he could manage.
"'It's common for newborns to have irregular sleep patterns in the first few weeks. You may find yourself sleeping in short bursts.'" He paused. "I don't like this paragraph."
Aria chuckled. "You'll live."
He set the book aside. "I've survived mergers. This feels worse."
"You'll be amazing," she whispered, her voice laced with a sudden, fierce sincerity. "You already are."
Leon stilled, touched in a way he couldn't name. He leaned forward, kissed her belly, and rested his cheek against it, as if listening for a whisper of the future.
She stroked his hair gently. "I think they know your voice already."
"Then I better keep talking." He looked up at her. "Tell me more about what you wrote last night."
Aria hesitated, then reached for the drawer and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. A letter.
"To the babies?" he asked.
She nodded, cheeks warming. "You don't have to read it."
"I want to."
She handed it over. He read in silence—her handwriting looping and delicate, the words filled with love and hope and quiet fears. A promise that they were wanted. That they were enough. That they were already the best thing she'd ever done.
By the time he looked up, his throat felt tight. He folded the paper carefully and placed it back in the drawer, then pulled her close.
"You're going to be a wonderful mother, Aria."
"And you'll be the kind of father they'll never doubt."
They didn't speak for a long while. They just sat there, wrapped up in each other, the quiet ticking of the rain against the windows the only sound in the world.
Because sometimes, it wasn't the grand gestures that made a life.
It was the names and little things—the notes scribbled in journals, the tea left brewing, the hands that always reached for each other in the dark.