loving you was a mistake

The private jet touched down just as the sun was setting, casting a warm orange hue across the tarmac. Aurora leaned against the window, watching as the sky slowly swallowed the light. She felt exhausted not from the travel, but from the weight in her chest that refused to lift, even in paradise.

Mark turned to her, his expression soft. "Home sweet home," he said, brushing a kiss against her temple. She nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah. Home."

The Maldives had been magical turquoise waters, moonlit dinners, endless privacy. Mark had done everything to make her feel loved, wanted, treasured. But no matter how much laughter they shared or how many breathtaking sunrises they watched curled in each other's arms, there was always something lingering. The silent ache of absence. The baby that wasn't.

As they drove through the gates of the Wilson estate, Aurora stared out the window, her fingers tangled in the hem of her dress. Mark reached over and laced his fingers with hers. "We'll be okay," he said gently, his thumb stroking her skin. "You know that, right?"

Aurora turned to look at him. His eyes were tired but filled with the same unwavering love she saw on their anniversary day. "I know," she whispered. They arrived to warm greetings from the house staff. Aurora slipped off her heels at the doorway, letting the marble floor cool her feet. Mark helped her with her hand bag before pulling her into a soft embrace.

"Go see your mom," he whispered. "She's been calling me every day asking when you'd be back. "You're not coming with me?" she asked, surprised. He chuckled. "I think you two need a little girl talk. And besides, I want to surprise you with something for dinner."

Aurora arched a brow. "You? In the kitchen?"

Mark smirked. "Don't underestimate a man in love." He gave her one last kiss and a playful tap on her lower back. "Now go". The car is ready.

The soft pitter-patter of water echoed through the marble halls as Aurora stepped inside the Riverson estate, the scent of lavender and fresh linen wafting through the air. Her sun-kissed skin still held the warmth of the Maldives, but her heart felt heavier than ever.

Kim looked up from the settee in the solarium, her face lighting up the moment she saw her daughter. "My baby," she whispered, rising to her feet with open arms. Aurora walked straight into her embrace, breathing in the comforting scent of her mother's perfume jasmine, vanilla, and something undeniably home.

"You look beautiful. How was the trip?" Kim asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from Aurora's face. Aurora smiled faintly. "It was… peaceful. Beautiful, actually. The water was like glass, and the nights were full of stars. Mark booked a private villa. He really went all out."

Kim's smile deepened. "That sounds dreamy." Aurora sat down, suddenly exhausted. "It was. But there was something missing." Kim's brow furrowed. She sat beside her daughter and reached for her hand. "Talk to me." Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat. Her gaze drifted toward the terrace where the wind played with the sheer curtains. "We've been trying, Mom. Really trying. For a baby."

Kim's heart skipped. She squeezed Aurora's hand gently. "And?" Aurora blinked, holding back tears. "Nothing. It's been six months since the doctor gave us the go-ahead. I've tracked every cycle. I've done everything right. Healthy eating, rest, you name it. And each month, I wait… I wait, and then—" Her voice cracked. "It doesn't happen."

Kim didn't speak immediately. She understood the quiet grief, the kind that came with hope dying in small pieces. "I know what that feels like," Kim finally said. "To want something so badly your bones ache. To imagine what it would feel like to hold that little soul in your arms. To count tiny fingers, hear your baby call you 'Mama' for the first time."

Aurora nodded, eyes glistening. "And Mark… he says it's okay, that it'll happen in time. But I see the way he looks at babies in public. I see the way he holds his breath every time I take a test. I know he wants this just as much as I do. Maybe more."

Kim shifted closer and placed a hand on her daughter's cheek. "It's not your fault, Aurora. Don't you dare carry that weight alone. Sometimes, these things take time. And sometimes…" she hesitated, her own pain flickering behind her eyes, "sometimes God makes us wait because the miracle He has for us is bigger than what we imagined."

"I just don't want to lose him," Aurora whispered, barely audible. "I don't want this pressure to change us. What if he gets tired of waiting?" Kim's expression hardened with maternal strength. "That man worships the ground you walk on. You should see the way he speaks about you when you're not around. I don't care what pain you two go through Mark would never leave you over this. If anything, he'll love you harder just so you don't forget your worth."

Aurora leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. "You really think so? "I know so." Kim kissed the crown of her daughter's head. "But if it ever gets too heavy to carry, you let me help you hold it. I'll be here every step of the way."

A soft silence settled over them as the late afternoon sun spilled golden light into the room. The Maldives might have offered peace, but here in this moment, in her mother's arms Aurora felt something even more valuable.