You stood there, heart pounding, clutching the tiny pair of shoes in your trembling hands. It felt surreal—this moment, this life you were building with Angelo. An arranged marriage that had once felt like a distant obligation had blossomed into something you never expected: a love so profound it anchored you, made you whole.

"Angelo," you called softly.

He turned from where he was rifling through the papers on the desk, his green eyes immediately sharp with concern. "What’s wrong?"

You took a deep breath, stepping closer to him and extending the little shoes.

"Wait… are you—" His voice cracked slightly, and his expression shifted, somewhere between disbelief and joy.

You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. "We’re having a baby," you whispered.

Before you could say anything more, the buzz of his phone shattered the moment. "I need to take this," he said, apologetic yet urgent. Without another word, he stepped out of the room, leaving you standing there, shoes in hand, your emotions suspended mid-air.

When Angelo finally returned, his face was pale. You barely had time to ask what had happened before he said in a hollow voice, "I just got a call from my mother… my dad… he passed away."

You crossed the space between you in an instant, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

The Next Day

The kitchen was filled with the warm, familiar aroma of Angelo’s favorite dishes. You worked carefully, pouring your love into every detail, hoping it might bring him some comfort in the wake of his loss.

But as you stirred the pot, a strange heaviness began to creep into your body. Your legs felt weak, unsteady, and the room around you started to blur. Panic surged in your chest as you called out, "Angelo!"

You tried to reach for something to steady yourself, but it was too late. The world tilted, and darkness engulfed you just as Angelo rushed in from the garden.

Your last thought before losing consciousness was of the life you carried within, a fragile hope that both you and your baby would be okay.