Chapter 6 - The Winter Moon
Winter arrived early in Maine.
By late December, a heavy snowstorm had blanketed the coast in two feet of soft, white powder. The ocean turned a dark, furious steel-blue, tossing whitecaps against the ice-covered granite rocks.
Vivien was six months pregnant now. Her stomach was rounded and high, her body changing into the soft, beautiful curves of motherhood.
She walked slowly along the snowy path near the edge of the woods, wrapped in a heavy goose-down coat, wearing warm lined boots.
Her days were quiet and peaceful. She worked on her blueprints during the morning light, baked bread in the afternoon, and read books by the fireplace as the cold northern evenings closed in around the cottage.
She had become friends with Sarah Miller, a midwife from Blackwood Cove who came up to the cottage twice a month to check on her and the baby.
Sarah was a warm, pragmatic woman in her fifties with graying hair and kind eyes that had seen hundreds of children born into the coastal world.
"Heartbeat is strong and steady," Sarah declared on a Tuesday afternoon, placing her stethoscope against Vivien’s belly. "Around one hundred and forty beats a minute. Sounds like a healthy, stubborn little girl."
Vivien smiled, laying back against the soft pillows of her sofa. "A girl?"
"If I had to bet my medical license on it, yes," Sarah chuckled, wiping the warm gel from Vivien’s stomach. "How are you feeling, Vivien? Any swelling? Any bad dreams?"
"I'm fine, Sarah," Vivien replied softly, pulling down her sweater. "Just... tired sometimes."
Sarah looked at her thoughtfully, taking her seat in the armchair beside the fire. "You're doing remarkably well for a woman building a house and preparing for a baby alone. But you know, my dear, when the baby comes in March, you're going to need help. A mother shouldn't have to carry the first months alone."
Vivien looked at the crackling flames in the fireplace.
"I have help," Vivien said quietly. "I have you. And I have the ocean."
Sarah sighed softly, reaching out to pat Vivien’s hand. "The ocean is a grand neighbor, my dear, but it won't hold your hand when the contractions start."
After Sarah left, Vivien sat alone by the window, watching the full winter moon rise over the snow-covered pine trees.
She pulled out her burner phone—the one Victor had given her six months ago.
She had never switched it on.
She held the small black phone in her hand for a long time, her thumb resting over the power button.
She wondered what Lorenzo was doing tonight. She wondered if he was sitting at a table in some high-end restaurant with senators and shipping lords, or if he was standing by the window of the empty penthouse, looking down at the city he had chosen over his family.
She lowered the phone, setting it back inside the drawer without turning it on.
May you like
She didn't want his money. She didn't want his empire.
She just wanted her daughter to grow up in a world where people looked at each other when they spoke, where love was measured in attention rather than diamond rings.
