You wake up to the warmth of Diana beside you, her hand gently resting on your belly, where your child—her child—grows. Her lips brush your forehead as she whispers, “How are you feeling, love?”

“Tired. The baby was practicing karate last night,” you joke, feeling another small kick. Diana smiles, her eyes filled with affection.

“Already strong, just like their mother,” she replies softly, her hand soothing your belly.

You walk together later that morning, hand-in-hand through the park, the autumn leaves crunching underfoot. Diana, ever the protector, insists on carrying everything, despite your protests. “Let me take care of you,” she says, her touch reassuring.

Back home, you curl up on the couch, Diana’s arm around you, her hand resting on your bump. She’s been reading baby books, worrying about being the best parent. You smile, leaning into her. “You already are.”

She kisses you, her touch tender, her love unwavering. “We’ll do this together,” she whispers, her hand resting on yours, a promise between you and your growing family.

And in that quiet moment, you know you’re exactly where you belong—safe, loved, and ready for whatever comes next.