Lucian
The weeks that followed that chaotic breakfast at the Nighthorn mansion passed slowly—quietly. No major drama, no surprises. It felt like a much-needed breather.
Mara and I spent most of our time buried in work. We’d come home late, exhausted but fulfilled. She had gotten the hang of everything—confident in meetings, sharp with decisions. The board respected her. Hell, they liked her. Watching her own that space made me proud in ways I didn’t expect.
Everything I prayed for in this marriage had come to pass.
Well—almost everything.
We hadn’t conceived yet. And while I didn’t want to pressure her or make it a thing… it lingered in the back of my mind. A quiet hope. A steady ache.
Saturday morning came, and Mara told me she wanted to visit her parents. I said yes, of course. She
