“Fabiola? Giada? Guilio? Tommaso?” Serena smirked at these suggestions as she ran her fingers through her hair and rested her back onto the bathroom wall as they both sat on either sides of the toilet discussing baby names following her final bout of nausea she would experience for this pregnancy.
“Michael? Rosalind? Cassandra? Peter?” He narrowed his eyes at her submissions before offering her a face of uncertainty as it was clear they would not find a common ground quite yet. During this silence in which neither of them could seem to cross that bridge of compromise, Serena slipped her Scotch mints past her lips and basked in the comfort the peppermint had upon her irritated stomach. But as she set the tin back onto the floor, she watched Paolo move closer to her until he now pulled her
