Chapter 28 - The Nursery
The next morning, the sun streamed warmly through the windows of the newly renovated second-floor bedroom that would soon become our new baby’s nursery. For months, this room had been a storage space filled with old boxes and the bitter memories of financial ruin. Now, painted in soft shades of pastel mint and warm ivory, it was a sanctuary of peace and new life.
Calder stood on a small wooden stepladder, carefully hanging a hand-painted wooden mobile of woodland animals from the ceiling while I supervised from a comfortable rocking chair in the corner.
"A little to the left," I instructed with a smile, pointing upward. "Right about... there."
Calder adjusted the mobile, stepping down from the ladder and wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He looked around the room, his eyes shining with quiet wonder. "You turned a nightmare into a masterpiece, Maeve."
"We did it together," I corrected, standing up slowly and walking over to him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him in a gentle, protective embrace. We stood there in the quiet stillness of the nursery, listening to the faint sounds of Hazel laughing downstairs as Tessa chased her around the living room.
"You know," Calder murmured, resting his chin on my head, "for the longest time, I thought love was something you had to earn through perfection, through enduring abuse, through letting people control your life just to keep the peace."
"And now?" I asked softly, looking up into his dark, clear eyes.
"Now I know real love looks like this," he said, smiling down at me with absolute devotion. "It looks like standing together in the dark until the sun finally breaks through."
Downstairs, the front doorbell chimed—a gentle, welcoming chime, not a harsh summons.
May you like
"I’ll get it," Calder whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips before walking out of the nursery.
I followed him down the stairs at a leisurely pace, my hand resting comfortably on my belly. When we reached the foyer, Tessa was already pulling the front door open, holding a large, steaming box of artisanal pastries from our favorite local bakery.
