Three weeks have passed since Stefano's death, and the pain still feels as raw as the day I learned of his fate. Sometimes, I catch myself pretending he's just away on a long trip, that he'll walk through the door any moment with that crooked smile I loved so much. But reality always crashes back, leaving me breathless with grief.
Today, I'm heading to the airport to fly back to Miami. Stefano's funeral was a week ago, a blur of black clothes and tear-stained faces. I cried so much that day I feared for our baby's well-being. But our little one is strong, just like their father. I'm determined to take care of myself and this precious life growing inside me. It's what Stefano would have wanted.
As I descend the stairs, my hand trailing along the smooth banister, Aurora's voice breaks thro
