Francesca’s eyes shimmered with unspoken pain. The inability to bear children had always been a wound she carried quietly, one that never truly healed.

The charged tension dissolved, dissipating into the air.

Julian tilted his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazed hers, his voice slipping into a huskier register. "Haven’t even started yet, and already you’re crying?"

Francesca shrugged him off, sitting upright as she reached for a hair ...