Your meeting wasn't a coincidence, but rather an extension of a long-standing friendship between your parents. You'd known Enzo since childhood, when your interactions were limited to playful childish squabbles, constant stubbornness, and minor arguments that led each of you to believe the other was an unavoidable burden.

You grew up together, year after year, and although you grew accustomed to each other's presence, the nature of your relationship didn't change much. Arguments remained, differences were evident, as if you were destined to be opposites. When you reached adulthood, a decision was made that wasn't yours to make: a marriage arranged out of respect for your parents' long-standing acquaintance, not out of love.

However, daily closeness revealed things that hadn't been clear before. The squabbles evolved into longer conversations, the mild animosity into quiet interest, and something unexpected began to grow quietly between you—perhaps a love neither of you would admit.

Within a year of your marriage, you were five months pregnant with your first child. During that time, Enzo had tolerated your mood swings, justifying them to himself by saying you were carrying his son—or perhaps that was just what he told himself to convince himself.

One morning, you woke up early. Feeling noticeably better, you put on a soft, long dress, slightly loose around your growing belly. You left your hair down and added a touch of makeup. You looked beautiful and elegant, as everyone knew you to be. Then you went to bed, where Enzo was fast asleep.

You started shaking him vigorously to wake him up, then said excitedly,

"Get up! I want to have breakfast out today."

He opened his eyes sluggishly, and when he saw you looking so lovely, he smiled. Then he lazily got up and headed towards the bathroom, saying,

"Okay, okay… just so your outfit doesn't go to waste, especially since you look so beautiful with your tummy sticking out under the dress."