I was already seven months pregnant. Maybe six and a half, but close enough. My belly was big now, round and heavy, stretching the soft cotton of my shirt. Every time I moved, I could feel the little life inside pushing back, reminding me that I wasn’t alone anymore. It was strange but wonderful.

That afternoon was supposed to be easy and sweet. Nothing complicated or special. Just a little treat to cheer me up. Lucian had ordered ice cream as per my request. It was that cute little place with the wooden sign, the one that made their cones fresh every day by hand. Their waffle bits were always...