MasukKyra’s pov*** The drive to the new clinic was smooth, tucked behind tinted windows and winding through back roads that kept us far from the noise of reporters or city traffic. Zaire had hand-picked this location a discreet, high-end private facility on the outskirts of the city, where high-profile clients came for the utmost privacy and care. I glanced out the window, my hand resting lightly on my belly. "This place looks... expensive," I muttered. Zaire gave a low chuckle. "It is," he said simply, then glanced over at me. "But it's also safe. No press. No leaks. Just focus on the baby that's all that matters here." The car pulled into a secluded driveway lined with trees. A security guard greeted us, verified Zaire's name, and opened the gate without question. Inside, the clinic felt more like a luxury retreat than a medical facility. Soft jazz played in the background, and the walls were painted warm, calming colors. No nurses rushing. No waiting room full of people. Just
Kyra**** The heaviness of Zaire’s words still lingered in the room like incense, deep and unshakable. But so did the quiet safety of the moment. I sat beside him on the couch, our hands still intertwined, and for once, I felt the tension in him ease just a bit. "Wanna watch something stupid?" I asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He let out a small laugh. "Like what?" "I don't know. Some mindless reality show where grown people fight over glitter and baked goods." Zaire smirked, the tension in his jaw finally relaxing. "You're not serious." "I'm very serious," I said, reaching for the remote. "We need a break from lawsuits and press and thinking about diapers." "Fine," he gave in. "But if there's a cake fight, I'm turning it off." We ended up watching an episode and a half of the most ridiculous baking competition imaginable. Sabotage, edible glitter, and one contestant named Sharkeisha who took cake decorating very personally. We laughed until I had tears
**Kyra's POV** The days after our planning session passed in a blur of quiet routines and small escapes. Mornings often began with slow breakfasts, the two of us sitting close in the kitchen, sharing coffee and laughter as we scrolled through lighthearted shows or funny videos on our phones. Afternoons were spent decorating the nursery, painting soft walls, assembling furniture, and debating over cute prints and plush toys. We found joy in imagining the little life we were creating, even amidst uncertainty. Some evenings, we snuck out to local spots wearing hats, sunglasses, and low-key clothes, simple disguises to keep our privacy. We laughed over shared ice cream cones, rode the Ferris wheel in near-empty parks, and talked about future plans far beyond the courtroom battles. Back home, we cuddled on the couch, watching old comedies and quoting lines until our sides hurt. Those moments reminded us of what truly mattered. Our connection deepened, not just as co-parents-to-
**Zaire's POV** As our quiet moment lingered, I took a steadying breath and looked into Jada's eyes. "Jada," I began softly, "I want to be honest with you. Tonight... this is just me trying to clear my head. I'm not really looking for anything serious right now." She nodded thoughtfully, searching my face. "I get that. Sometimes you just need a night to be yourself." I smiled, grateful for her understanding. "Exactly. No pressure, no expectations, just a chance to breathe and enjoy the moment." Jada returned my smile, her hand still resting gently on mine. "That sounds perfect," she said. "No strings. Just good company." We leaned in once more, savoring the calm comfort between us, knowing this night was exactly what we both needed. The quiet of the private room settled around us like a soft blanket. After a few more moments of easy conversation, I checked my watch. "Alright, Jada," I said with a small smile, "I should probably get going." She nodded, standing gra
**Kyra's POV** Sunlight filtered softly through the tall windows of the living room, casting warm patches on the plush rug where Zaire and I sat side by side. The lawsuit, the media, the clinic, all the noise from the past days felt distant, pushed aside for this rare moment of calm. I leaned against Zaire's shoulder, a soft blanket draped over our legs. The TV played a light-hearted comedy, laughter spilling through the room from the characters on screen. Zaire's fingers traced idle patterns on my arm, his voice low and steady. "This is nice. Just us. No suits, no reporters, no lawyers." I smiled, my head tilting up to meet his gaze. "Yeah. Just normal." We shared a quiet laugh at a silly joke on the show. For the first time in weeks, the weight on our shoulders felt lighter. Zaire reached for the remote and muted the TV. "You want to nap?" he asked. I nodded sleepily. "That sounds perfect." He carefully stood and pulled the blanket tighter around me as I rested my
**Kyra's POV** I sat cross-legged on the plush carpet of one of the spare bedrooms, my iPad open to a Pinterest board filled with soft neutrals, warm woods, and pops of sage green. Zaire stood across from me, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a rare look of contentment on his face. "This room gets the best light," I said, glancing toward the wide windows. "Perfect for early mornings." Zaire nodded. "It's peaceful. You picked a good one." I looked up at him. "I was thinking something gender-neutral for now. Sage and cream, maybe hints of tan?" Zaire walked over and sat beside me. "I like that. Clean, soft... calming." He gave a small smile. "This feels real now." "It is real." My voice was soft, but steady. "We're doing this." Zaire reached for the iPad, swiping through my inspiration board. "I'll call a contractor. Have this done in a couple weeks tops." We both looked at each other for a moment—no awkwardness, no second-guessing—just quiet under







