He hadn’t said anything, not directly. But his eyes kept dropping to my belly. I could see the internal tug-of-war on his face between wanting me by his side and wanting me tucked away somewhere safe.
It was a big day for him.
I was almost ready. Or…as ready as I could be with a baby doing backflips in my stomach and the weight of a thousand eyes about to land on me.
I’d been lucky after a few grim weeks of morning sickness; my pregnancy had been textbook. Even most of the travel hadn’t been too much. But this morning, there was a flicker of something low in my back. Not pain exactly. Just…pressure. Brief and tight, like my body was whispering that maybe, after today, it was time to stop pushing myself.
I placed a hand on my bump, rubbed it in circular motions, and exhaled.
Not today, I told him silently, smiling to myself.
The sensation faded.
“You doing okay?” my hairdresser asked, catching my eye in the mirror.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Just nerves.”
She smiled and gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze.
“You look gorgeous, Kate.”
This whole thing was way more high-maintenance than I’d usually go for, but I’d asked Cora, the same girl who always did my hair at home, if she’d come to Rome just this once. I was tired, aching, and trying not to let the pressure of the day get to me. Jordan had told me to do whatever I needed to feel good, to take the weight off wherever I could. So…here I was. Flying my hairdresser to Italy. A stage of life I truly never saw coming.
I glanced at my reflection.
My hair was soft and glossy, pinned half-up in loose waves that framed my face. There was a flush in my cheeks I couldn’t quite control lately, and a fullness to my lips that was probably the pregnancy. Maybe the adrenaline.
I’d chosen a dress that felt like both armour and elegance. Off-white, softly structured, hugging my bump in a way that made me feel confident, not exposed.
I slid in my earrings, clipped on the tennis bracelet I hadn’t gone a day without wearing since Wimbledon, and stood.
Then another wave came. Lower this time. Just a flicker of pressure in my spine that made my hand go instinctively to the small of my back.
False alarm. It had to be. It was far too early for a first baby.
The suite phone buzzed.
“Dr Ashford? Your car is downstairs.”
“Thank you,” I said, already moving slowly across the room.
As I gathered my things, a ripple of something unfamiliar passed through me. Anticipation, maybe. Apprehension.
In the lift, I took a deep breath and braced my hand gently over the curve of my stomach. Something was definitely starting to feel off.
When I stepped into the lobby, Maggie was waiting in a navy jumpsuit, sunglasses pushed back into her hair as always.
“Bloody hell,” she said, looking me up and down with a grin. “You’re about to break the internet again.”
I rolled my eyes before leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“Let’s go watch your boy win.”
We climbed into the car, the driver already merging into the chaos of Roman traffic. I glanced out the window, palm still protectively resting over my bump, and tried to ignore the way my heart was starting to beat just a little faster.
It was finals day.
And everything was about to change.
