Aria had read that nesting was a natural instinct, but she never imagined it would take her over like a mission from the heavens. It began one morning when she woke up with an inexplicable need to rearrange everything. Not just her closet or the kitchen cabinets, but the entire house. Luca woke to the sound of furniture scraping across the floor and found her, eight months pregnant, trying to push a sofa by herself.
"Aria!" he barked, running over to stop her. "What are you doing?"
She looked up at him, hair tied in a messy bun, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild with determination. "The energy in this room is all wrong, Luca. The sofa has to face the window. The baby will need sunlight, and this" she pointed at the wall "this corner feels too cold."
He blinked. "The baby won't care about feng shui."
"Maybe not," she said, pushing her lower lip out, "but I do."
He sighed, rubbing his temples, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. "You've lost your mind, amore."
