I saw.
I sure as hell saw.
"Yeah," I said, my voice rough.
"Want to hear the heartbeat?" Dr. Green asked, hand already moving toward the button.
I nodded.
The sound came through the speaker.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Fast. Strong. Like urgent music.
Best sound I'd ever heard.
I stared at that screen, at that small outline, and felt like my chest was going to explode.
This was my kid.
My blood.
Mine.
"Ezio."
Olivia's voice cut through.
I turned. She was still watching the screen, tears streaming down her face.
"Our baby," she said, her voice trembling. "You see? That's our baby."
Our baby.
That hit me harder than anything else could have.
"I see," I said.
She turned to look at me, green eyes swimming, but the smile was real. "She's beautiful," she said. "Look at her tiny hand, her fast heart. Ezio, do you think she'll look like you?"
I didn't answer.
Just looked at her.
At that smile on her face, those eyes bright as they could be, her hand gentle on her belly like she was protecting something precious.
"Checkup's done," Dr. Green said, switching off the machine and handing her tissues. "Everything's perfect, Mrs. Visconti. Baby's healthy, you're doing beautifully."
Olivia took the tissues and wiped her eyes. "Thank you, doctor."
"Keep up what you're doing," Dr. Green said. "Rest, stay happy. And—" She looked at me. "Dad's doing great, too. Pregnant women need family support. Your presence matters for her and the baby."
I nodded. Didn't say anything.
Dr. Green printed the ultrasound image and handed it over.
She took that small black-and-white slip in both hands like it was made of glass, studied it for a long time, then clutched it to her chest and closed her eyes. Tears slid silently down her face.
