Jora’s smile softened as she leaned into him, her forehead still resting against his. The warmth of his excitement—the way it lit his whole face—made her chest ache in the best way. For a long moment she just breathed him in, letting the steadiness of his heartbeat sink into her, grounding her against the rush of emotions stirring inside her.

“I can’t believe it either,” she admitted quietly, her voice carrying that tremor between laughter and disbelief. “Feels almost too good to be true.” Her hand slid up to cradle his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint stubble there as she looked up at him. “We’ve wanted this for so long, and now that it’s happening…” She gave a soft, breathy laugh. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”

At his wondering about whether it would be a boy or a girl, she smiled wider, a faint sparkle in her eyes. “Part of me thinks it’ll be another girl,” she mused, glancing again toward Lyra, who had moved on to humming some tuneless little song as she sorted fruit. “But honestly, whatever they are… they’ll be ours. That’s what matters.”

Her free hand moved unconsciously to her stomach again, fingers tracing slow, thoughtful circles. “It’s strange,” she murmured. “I thought I’d be more scared, but I just feel… peaceful. Like it’s supposed to happen now.”

She looked back up at him, her expression soft but full of quiet certainty. “You’re right—we have time. And we’ll make it work, just like we always do.” Then, with a small, teasing grin tugging at her lips, she added, “Though you might want to get used to less sleep again.”

Jora let out a soft laugh, her smile widening as his lips brushed over her hand. “It really is,” she agreed, her tone gentle but full of that quiet awe that hadn’t yet worn off. “Every time I think life can’t surprise me anymore, it does something like this.” Her eyes flicked toward Lyra again, her heart swelling at how completely oblivious and happy their daughter looked—how safe she looked. “It almost feels like we’ve come full circle.”

When Sage promised he’d be there this time, though, Jora’s expression softened even further. The memory of what had happened before still lingered somewhere deep inside her—the fear, the chaos, the ache of his absence—but she didn’t let it darken the moment. Instead, she reached up to rest her hand against his jaw, thumb tracing lightly along his skin. “I know you will,” she whispered, her voice steady. “And that’s more than enough for me.”

She laughed quietly when he groaned about losing sleep, leaning into him with a playful nudge. “You’ll live. You always do,” she teased, eyes bright with affection. “Besides, you say that now—but once they’re here, you’ll be the one who can’t sleep anyway. You’ll be hovering over the crib every five minutes to make sure they’re breathing.”

At his suggestion about writing to her mother and Selene, she nodded, though her expression grew thoughtful. “Yeah… I will. They’ll both want to know.” Her lips curved into a fond smile. “Mom will probably cry. Selene will start lecturing me about proper nutrition within the first two minutes.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “But it’ll be good. It’ll make it feel more real—telling people.”

Her gaze drifted down toward her stomach again, fingers brushing lightly over it. “This time, I want everything to go right,” she murmured. Then she looked back up at him, eyes shining with quiet hope. “And I think it finally will.”