Six weeks after the gala, I woke up feeling wrong.
Not sick, exactly. Just... off. My stomach felt unsettled, my breasts were tender, and the smell of Adrian's coffee from downstairs made me want to gag.
I lay there for a moment, processing. Then my eyes flew open.
No.
I grabbed my phone, checked the calendar. My period was late. Two weeks late.
How had I not noticed?
Because we'd been dealing with FBI debriefings, and Volkov's trial preparation, and therapy sessions to process what happened at the gala. Because life had been chaos.
But now.
I counted backward. The honeymoon. Bora Bora. We'd been so wrapped up in each other, in tearing up that contract and promising forever.
We'd gotten careless.
"Sophia?" Adrian's voice came from downstairs. "You okay up there?"
I forced myself out of bed. "Fine! Be down in a minute!"
In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection. Could I be pregnant? We'd talked about kids, but someday. Not now. Not when we were still processing trauma, still rebuilding our sense of safety.
But maybe that's exactly when life happened. When you weren't ready. When you were just starting to breathe again.
I needed to know for sure.
"I have to run an errand," I called down to Adrian. "I'll be back in an hour."
"Want company?"
"No! I mean.." I gentled my tone. "No, it's fine. Just picking up something for Margaret. Girl stuff."
Technically not a lie. Pregnancy tests were girl stuff.
Twenty minutes later, I stood in a pharmacy aisle, staring at an overwhelming array of pregnancy tests.
Why were there so many options? Digital, line, early detection, regular. Pink boxes, blue boxes, purple boxes.
"First time?"
I turned to find an elderly woman smiling at me sympathetically.
"That obvious?"
"You have the deer-in-headlights look. I've had four kids. I know the panic." She reached past me, grabbed a box. "This one. Simple, accurate, and you get three tests so you can be sure."
"Thank you." I took the box with shaking hands.
"Breathe, dear. Whatever it says, you'll handle it. Women always do." She patted my arm and walked away.
I paid for the tests, drove home, and snuck up to the bedroom while Adrian was on a call in his study.
In the bathroom, I followed the instructions with trembling hands. Three tests, just to be sure.
Then I waited.
Three minutes felt like three hours.
My phone timer went off. I looked.
Two lines. Digital "Pregnant." Plus sign.
All three. Positive.
I sank onto the edge of the bathtub, tests clutched in my hands.
Pregnant. I was pregnant.
We were having a baby.
Holy shit.
Terror and joy warred in my chest. This was too soon. We'd only been married two months. We were still dealing with assassins and trials and.
But also. A baby. Our baby. Adrian's and mine.
A tiny person made from love and second chances and miracle.
Tears streamed down my face happy or scared, I couldn't tell. Both, maybe.
"Sophia?"
I jumped. Adrian was at the bathroom door, concern etched on his face.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying? Are you hurt" His eyes landed on the tests in my hands. "What is that?"
I held one up mutely.
He stared at it. Blinked. Looked at me. Back at the test.
"Is that.."
"I'm pregnant." The words came out as a whisper. "Adrian, I'm pregnant."
For a moment, he just stood there, frozen. I couldn't read his expression.
Then he crossed the bathroom in two strides, pulled me to my feet, and kissed me like I held the entire world in my hands.
"We're having a baby?" he asked when we broke apart, voice rough with emotion.
"We're having a baby."
"Oh my God." He laughed, the sound breaking. "Oh my God, Sophia. We're having a baby."
"You're happy?" I searched his face. "We weren't planning it's so soon."
"Happy? I'm." He cupped my face, and I saw tears in his eyes. "Sophia, I'm terrified and ecstatic and completely overwhelmed. But yes. God, yes, I'm happy."
I burst into tears again. "Me too. I'm scared out of my mind, but I'm so happy."
He pulled me close, one hand sliding to rest on my still-flat stomach. "There's a baby in there. Our baby."
"About the size of a blueberry, probably."
"A blueberry." He said it with such wonder. "Our little blueberry."
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm going to be a father." The words seemed to hit him freshly. "Jesus. I'm going to be a father. What if I'm terrible at it? What if I screw up? What if."
"Hey." I put my hands over his. "We'll figure it out. Together. Like everything else."
"Together," he agreed. Then he kissed me again, softer this time. "We're having a baby."
"We're having a baby."
We told James that evening over dinner.
Adrian could barely sit still, kept fidgeting with his fork, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
"You're both acting strange," James observed. "What's going on?"
Adrian looked at me. I nodded.
"Grandfather," Adrian said, taking my hand. "Sophia's pregnant. You're going to be a great-grandfather."
James froze, fork halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he set it down.
"You're certain?"
"Three tests. All positive," I confirmed.
For a long moment, James just stared at us. Then his face crumpled, and he started crying.
Adrian and I exchanged startled glances. James never cried.
"Grandfather.."
"I'm fine. I'm." James wiped his eyes roughly. "I'm just happy. So damn happy. After your parents died, Adrian, I thought I wasn't sure I'd ever see this. You married, starting a family. Carrying on the Blackwood name."
He stood, came around the table, and hugged us both tight.
"Thank you," he said to me. "For giving him this. For giving us this."
"Thank you for raising such an incredible man," I replied, tears starting again. "This baby is lucky to have you as a great-grandfather."
"I'm the lucky one." James pulled back, composing himself. "Now. We have plans to make. Nursery, medical care, baby-proofing."
"It's barely the size of a blueberry," Adrian protested. "We have time."
"Never too early to prepare." James was already pulling out his phone. "I'm calling my lawyer. Need to update the will, set up a trust fund."
"Grandfather."
But James was already dialing, muttering about investments and college funds.
Adrian looked at me helplessly. I laughed.
"Let him be excited."
"He's going to drive us crazy."
"Probably. But in the best way."
We told Lucas and Elena the next day over lunch.
"No way." Elena's eyes went huge. "You're pregnant?"
"About six weeks," I confirmed.
"Holy shit!" She jumped up, hugged me tight. "Congratulations! Oh my God, I'm going to be an auntie!"
"Technically you're not.." Lucas started.
"Shut up, I'm claiming it. Auntie Elena. It has a ring to it." She turned to Adrian. "And you. Uncle Lucas. Better start practicing diaper changes."
"I'm not changing diapers."
"The hell you're not. We're the godparents, obviously. Godparents change diapers."
"We didn't ask you to be godparents," Adrian pointed out.
"Too late. I'm calling it. Lucas?"
Lucas looked at Adrian, his best friend for over a decade. "If you're actually asking."
"We're asking," I said warmly. "Both of you. You're family. Of course we want you as godparents."
Elena burst into tears. "This is the best day ever."
"You're pregnant too," Lucas said dryly. "You cry at commercials now."
We all froze.
"Wait," I said slowly. "You're pregnant?"
Elena looked at Lucas. He shrugged.
"Surprise?" Elena said. "We were going to wait to tell people, but yeah. Three months."
I screamed. Adrian laughed. Lucas looked slightly panicked.
"Our kids are going to grow up together!" Elena grabbed my hands. "They'll be best friends, just like us! Oh my God, this is perfect!"
"When are you due?" I asked.
"December. You?"
"Late February, early March."
"Three months apart. Perfect spacing." Elena was already planning. "They can share clothes, toys, we can do playdates."
"They're not even born yet," Lucas pointed out.
"Details."
We spent the rest of lunch talking about babies and parenthood and the future. It felt surreal but wonderful.
Normal. Finally, blessedly normal.
The first doctor's appointment was two weeks later.
Adrian took the day off work refused to miss it and held my hand the entire time.
"Mrs. Blackwood," Dr. Sarah Martinez said warmly. "Congratulations. Let's take a look at this baby."
The ultrasound was transvaginal uncomfortable but necessary this early. Adrian watched the screen intently as Dr. Martinez moved the wand.
"There." She pointed. "That's your baby."
A tiny blob. Barely recognizable as human. But there was a flicker in the center.
"Is that.." Adrian's voice was hushed.
"The heartbeat. Strong and healthy." Dr. Martinez smiled. "Would you like to hear it?"
She turned on the sound. A rapid whooshing filled the room, like horses galloping.
Adrian's hand tightened on mine. I looked at him and saw tears streaming down his face.
"That's our baby," he whispered. "That's really our baby."
"That's your baby," Dr. Martinez confirmed. "Based on measurements, I'd say you're about seven weeks along. Due date is March 2nd. Everything looks perfect."
She printed images for us grainy black and white photos that showed nothing but a blob. But to us, they were everything.
In the car afterward, Adrian couldn't stop looking at the photos.
"We should frame these. Put them in the nursery."
"It looks like a blob."
"It's our blob." He kissed the photo, then me. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For this. For choosing me, for loving me, for giving me a family." His hand rested on my stomach. "I never thought I'd have this. Never let myself hope. And now.."
"Now we have everything."
"Now we have everything," he agreed.
The next few weeks were a blur of doctor's appointments, prenatal vitamins, and morning sickness that was unfortunately not limited to mornings.
Adrian was adorably overprotective. He installed grab bars in all the bathrooms, stocked the kitchen with ginger everything, and read pregnancy books obsessively.
"Did you know the baby has fingers now?" he announced one evening, looking up from his book. "Tiny little fingers."
"I did know that, yes."
"And taste buds. It can taste what you eat."
"Then it's tasting a lot of crackers, because that's all I can keep down."
He set down the book, moved to sit beside me on the couch. "How are you feeling? Really?"
"Exhausted. Nauseous. My breasts hurt, my back hurts, and I cried this morning because we were out of orange juice."
"I'll get more orange juice."
"Adrian, that's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"That I'm a hormonal mess and you're being too perfect about it." I leaned against him. "You're supposed to be freaked out. Complaining about my mood swings."
"Why would I complain? You're growing a human. You're allowed to be a mess." He kissed my temple. "Besides, I kind of like taking care of you."
"Even when I'm crying about orange juice?"
"Especially then."
We sat there in comfortable silence, his hand on my barely-there bump.
"Sophia?"
"Mm?"
"I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything."
"I know. I love you too."
"Good. Because I need you to know no matter what happens, no matter how hard this gets I'm here. Always. We're in this together."
"Forever together."
"Forever together."
At twelve weeks, we had the first trimester screening.
The baby was bigger now actually looked like a baby instead of a blob. We could see the head, the body, tiny arms and legs that were moving.
"Very active," Dr. Martinez noted. "Look at that. Baby's waving at you."
Adrian made a sound that might have been a sob. I was too busy crying to tease him.
"Would you like to know the sex?" Dr. Martinez asked. "It's still early, but I might be able to see.."
Adrian and I looked at each other.
"Do we want to know?" I asked.
"I'll be happy either way. Your choice."
I thought about it. About the future. About nursery colors and name discussions and all the planning ahead.
"Let's wait," I decided. "I want to be surprised."
"You sure? I can have the lab run tests, give you results in a few days—"
"I'm sure. Surprise is good."
After the appointment, Adrian took me to lunch at our favorite restaurant.
"You're glowing," he said, studying me across the table. "Literally. Pregnancy suits you."
"I'm twelve weeks pregnant and I threw up twice this morning. I'm not glowing."
"You are to me." He reached across, took my hand. "Sophia, I know we didn't plan this. I know it's fast. But I can't imagine anything more perfect."
"Really?"
"Really. You, me, our baby. It's everything I never knew I wanted."
"Even with assassins and trials and all the chaos?"
"Even with all of that. Because this.." he gestured between us, down to my stomach, "..this is what we fought for. The chance to have this life. This family."
"We did fight for it, didn't we?"
"We did. And we won."
I smiled, placed my free hand on my small bump. "Yeah. We did."
That night, Adrian read to the baby.
We were in bed, and he'd insisted on it claimed he'd read that babies could hear voices from the womb by second trimester, wanted to start early.
"'Once upon a time,'" he read from a children's book Margaret had bought, "'there was a brave little girl who went on an adventure.'"
"Adrian, the baby can't hear yet. It's only twelve weeks."
"Doesn't matter. I'm practicing." He continued reading, one hand on my stomach.
I watched him, this powerful CEO reading children's stories to a baby the size of a plum, and fell in love with him all over again.
"You're going to be an amazing father," I said when he finished.
"You think?"
"I know. Look at you. Already reading bedtime stories."
"I want to do this right. Want to be the father my dad would have been if he'd had the chance. Want to give this baby everything."
"You will. We will." I snuggled closer. "Together."
"Together," he agreed, then kissed my stomach. "Goodnight, little one. Daddy loves you."
"And Mommy," I added. "Mommy loves you too."
As I drifted off to sleep, Adrian's hand still resting protectively on our baby, I marveled at how much had changed.
Three months ago, I'd died on a restaurant floor.
Two months ago, I'd married a man I barely knew in a desperate bid for protection.
Now I was lying in bed, pregnant with his baby, so deeply in love I could barely breathe with it.
Life was strange. Beautiful and terrifying and unpredictable.
But I wouldn't change a single moment.
Because every moment the good, the bad, the absolutely insane had led me here.
To this. To him. To us. To the family we were building.
And that was worth everything.