Zayden's POV
Every morning, I woke up to her soft breathing and the tiny round bump between us.
And every morning, I whispered a silent prayer.
Not one of desperation.
But of gratitude.
Because for now, she was here. And so was the baby.
"Okay," I said, flopping onto the bed with a notepad. "I need answers."
Elena peeked up from her book. "About?"
"Baby Wolfe's gender."
She blinked. "You know I don't know yet, right?"
I smirked. "Yeah, but I know you. And I'm gonna crack you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Try me."
I lifted the notepad. "Do you think the baby will like cars or tiaras?"
"Both," she said coolly.
"Okay, okay… would you buy them a blue dinosaur onesie or a pink bunny suit?"
She smirked. "Green avocado costume."
"Elena."
"What?" She shrugged. "Avocados are gender-neutral."
I groaned. "Just give me one clue!"
She leaned in, her voice teasing. "Fine. I think the baby's going to have your eyes."
My heart stilled.
"And?" I whispered.
"And… their stubbornness will absolutely be mine," she said smugly.
I cracked up and tossed the notepad aside. "So basically, we're raising a tiny dictator."
She giggled, but then her eyes softened.
"Zay?" she asked.
"Yeah?"
"Does it matter what we have?"
I looked at her, truly looked. The light in her eyes. The growing life between us. The invisible clock ticking too fast.
"No," I whispered. "It only matters that I get to have you. And them."
---
Later That Night — Bucket List #3: Star-counting until we fall asleep
We drove an hour out of the city, where there was nothing but fields, silence, and the kind of night sky you only saw in old movies.
I laid out the blanket while she carefully settled down, wrapped in my jacket. Her head rested on my shoulder, belly snug beneath the folds of a cozy sweater.
"One," she whispered, pointing up.
"Two," I added, kissing the top of her head.
We counted until numbers turned to sighs. I didn't care about the stars anymore. I was too busy memorizing the way her breath slowed, her fingers curled in mine, her lashes fluttering closed.
I kissed her temple and whispered into the night:
"I don't care if you're a boy or girl… but I hope you grow up knowing how fiercely your mom loved you."
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Zayden's Private Thoughts (Journal Entry):
> What if I run out of time before I get to be the dad they remember? What if two years isn't enough?
But then she laughs, and the baby kicks, and I feel like… maybe, just maybe, I was meant to live this life if only to love her this deeply.
Boy or girl doesn't matter. As long as they have her strength. Her eyes. Her laugh. And maybe just a little of my need to protect what matters.