The digital clock on my nightstand read 2:37 AM, its soft blue glow the only light in our bedroom. I rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time, my hand stretching across the cool, empty sheets beside me. Kaelen still hadn't come to bed.
Sleep eluded me without his warm body next to mine. It was strange how quickly I'd grown accustomed to his presence—the steady rhythm of his breathing, the protective weight of his arm draped across my waist, even the occasional soft snore that he vehemently denied making.
I pushed myself up, the plush mattress shifting beneath me as I reached for my robe. Rhys kicked inside me, apparently as restless as his mother.
"I know, little one," I whispered, rubbing my rounded belly. "Let's go find your father."
