
March 1, 2027 – Ninth month complete. Due date: tomorrow.
Priya’s belly was enormous now—tight, low, skin stretched shiny, stretch marks like delicate silver veins mapping where Victor had gripped her hardest during the final months. The baby kicked constantly—strong, demanding—reminding her every second who the real father was. Rohan had moved heaven and earth: private hospital suite booked, best obstetrician on call, nursery painted twice because “the color had to be perfect for our baby.”





















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