The ballroom gleamed under golden chandeliers, crystal clinking, and laughter humming through the air. The reception had begun with charm and elegance, every table adorned with white roses and flickering candles. The air buzzed with congratulations, laughter, and the gentle clatter of silverware against porcelain.

Cynthia sat beside Mike at the sweetheart table, her hand resting protectively on her bump, her eyes twinkling as guests took turns wishing them a lifetime of happiness. Despite the butterflies still nesting in her chest, she felt—finally—like she belonged. Like she was loved.

Mike leaned closer. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m in a dream,” she whispered. “But the good kind.”

He smiled, brushing...