Time slowed as the birth drew closer.
Not in a dramatic way. There were no sudden signs, no urgent alarms. Just a gradual shift in how days unfolded, as if the world itself understood something precious was approaching and chose to soften around it.
Aria felt it most in her body.
Her movements became deliberate. Her awareness turned inward. She noticed the way light changed throughout the day, how sounds carried differently, and how even silence felt weighted with expectation rather than fear.
The baby moved often now, firm and sure, pressing against her ribs, rolling beneath her palms. Aria spoke to her quietly in the mornings and evenings, small fragments of thought rather than promises.
You are safe.
You are wanted.
You are free.
Luca listened from nearby without interrupting. He had learned when presence mattered more than words.
The estate adjusted around her without being asked.
