The Double Life of My Pregnant Ex-Wife (Carmen and Marco) novel Chapter 73

The nursery was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting warm shadows across the room. Carmen stood by the crib, watching her son sleep. His tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, the innocence of his dreams stark against the storm brewing outside these walls.

She reached down, brushing a gentle hand over his hair. Her throat tightened as she whispered, “You won’t remember this, but I want you to know—I love you more than anything in this world.”

The baby stirred slightly, his small fingers twitching as he nestled deeper into the blanket.

Carmen crouched beside the crib, her voice low but steady. “Your father and I—we’ve made mistakes. We’ve hurt people, and we’ve been hurt in return. But everything we do now, we do for you. To make sure you grow up safe, away from all of this.”

Her vision blurred with unshed tears, but her resolve didn’t falter. “I promise you, we’ll end this. We’ll fight with everything we have, so you never have to live in fear.”

Behind her, the sound of footsteps made her turn. Marco stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hall.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked quietly.

Carmen shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “No. I was just saying goodnight.”

Marco stepped into the room, his gaze softening as he looked at their son. He reached out, brushing a hand over Carmen’s shoulder. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Carmen laughed softly, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “I’m just a mother trying to do what’s right.”

Marco crouched beside her, their shoulders brushing. “You’re more than that. You’re my partner, my strength. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Carmen turned to him, her hand finding his. “You don’t have to. We’re in this together.”

For a moment, the war felt distant, the world narrowing to just the two of them and the child they had created. Marco leaned closer, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. It wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was steady, grounding, a reminder of everything they were fighting for.