They spent three weeks in a private villa in Santorini—sun, sea, and absolutely no work.
Or that was the plan.
"Adrian," Nancy said on day five, looking up from her laptop, "if you check the stock market one more time, I'm throwing your phone into the volcano."
"It's just a quick—"
"Adrian."
He set the phone down, sulking. "I don't know how to relax. I've never tried it before."
"Then learn." Nancy closed her laptop, stretched out on the sunbed beside him. "Watch the clouds. Feel the sun. Exist without achieving."
"That sounds like death."
"It sounds like peace." She took his hand, placed it on her stomach. "And we need peace. For what comes next."
Adrian froze. "What comes next?"
Nancy smiled, secretive and joyful. "I was going to wait. Find the perfect moment. But you're terrible at perfect moments, so..." She pressed his hand harder against her still-flat belly. "You're going to be a father, Adrian. In approximately seven months."
The silence stretched. Adrian's face cycled through shock, disbelief, terror, and finally—finally—wonder.
"You're sure?"
"Three tests. One doctor's visit. Very sure."
"A baby." He laughed, the sound incredulous and delighted. "We're having a baby. Nancy, we're having a baby!"
He swept her up, spinning her around, kissing her with desperate joy. When he set her down, his eyes were wet.
"I was supposed to have ten years," he whispered. "Maybe fifteen. And now... decades, potentially. And a child. A family." He touched her face with reverent fingers. "You gave me this. Your research, your determination, your refusal to accept Sonia's terms. You gave me life, Nancy. Literally."
"We gave each other life," she corrected. "That's what partnership means."
They spent the rest of the honeymoon planning—nursery designs, parental leave schedules, names. Adrian wanted something traditional, strong. Nancy wanted something unique, meaningful.
"Eleanor," Adrian suggested. "For a girl. After my mother."
"And if it's a boy?"
"Robert. After your father."
Nancy stilled. Her father, the embezzler, the prisoner, the shame she'd carried for years. "You'd name our son after him?"
"Your father made mistakes. Terrible ones. But he also raised you—alone, after your mother left, working multiple jobs to give you opportunities." Adrian's voice was gentle. "He wasn't all bad, Nancy. Just as I'm not all good. And naming our son after him... it's acknowledging that complexity. That redemption is possible."
Nancy cried then, for the first time since their reunion. Cried for her father, for the years of shame, for the forgiveness she hadn't known she needed.
"Robert," she agreed. "Robert Eleanor Thorne. Regardless of gender."
Adrian held her as the sun set, painting the Aegean in colors of fire and gold. And they dreamed, together, of a future they'd almost lost.