Bella stood in front of the bedroom mirror, smoothing her dress over her belly for the third time in a row. It wasn't too tight—at least, she didn't think so—but she still tugged at the fabric as if that might hide the little curve that seemed to be growing more noticeable by the day.
She could still hear Rachel's excited voice drifting in from the living room, talking to Lucas about her "princess braid" and what flavors she hoped her ice cream would have.
Bella allowed herself a moment to smile. There was something sweet about how easily Rachel had taken to him—how she lit up when he walked into the room, how she looked at him like he could fix anything.
And, strangely, something even sweeter in the way he was letting her.
She shook off the thought before it became too big, too dangerous, and grabbed her lip balm from the dresser.
---
Out in the living room, Lucas knelt beside the couch, helping Rachel carefully down from where she'd been perched. Her little white sandals tapped the floor as she twirled once, then beamed up at him.
"Do I look extra fancy now?" she asked seriously.
Lucas took a moment to pretend to study her. "I think you might be too fancy for ice cream. They might mistake you for royalty and try to serve you on a silver plate."
Rachel giggled, covering her mouth. "Daaadaaa! I'm not that fancy!"
He leaned in with a grin. "You're close."
She grabbed his hand and tugged. "Next time you go somewhere, can I help you pick your tie? Mommy always picks boring ones."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Boring?"
Rachel nodded solemnly. "Too much black. You should try sparkles."
"I'll think about it," he said, amused. "Maybe for the next board meeting."
Before Rachel could go on a full color theory explanation, he pulled out his phone. "Come here. Let's take a picture to show Mommy how amazing your braid looks."
She struck a pose with her hands on her hips, lips puckered in what she called her "grown-up smile." Lucas took the photo, then ruffled her hair lightly. "Perfect."
Just then, soft footsteps came from the hallway.
Lucas looked up—and went completely still.
Bella walked in, gently smoothing the fabric of her flowy, light-blue dress. It wasn't anything dramatic, but something about the way it framed her—soft, breezy, real—caught him off guard.
Her hair was loosely pinned, a few tendrils framing her face, and there was that same unsure smile on her lips like she wasn't used to being noticed.
Rachel gasped. "Mommy! Now you look like the mommy of a princess!"
Bella laughed, cheeks warming. "I was aiming for that."
Lucas didn't say anything right away. He just looked. And for a beat too long.
Bella caught his gaze and gave a playful raise of her brows. "You're staring."
"Observing," he replied easily. "There's a difference."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, your royal date is ready now. Shall we go?"
Lucas offered his arm dramatically. "It would be an honor, my lady."
Rachel squealed in delight. "Wait! I want to walk in the middle! Like a real princess between a king dada and queen mama!"
So she did—Bella on one side, Lucas on the other, their hands all linked as they stepped out of the house like something out of a fairy tale written in sidewalk chalk and soft evening breeze.
---
The restaurant wasn't far—an inviting little Italian place with outdoor seating, golden lanterns swaying gently in the early evening air. The host led them to a cozy corner table with a clear view of the garden lights.
Rachel pressed her nose to the menu and asked if they had rainbow pasta.
Bella smiled at the host apologetically. "She's very...inventive."
Lucas chuckled. "Check the specials. You never know."
As they sat, Bella couldn't help glancing at him again. He was so easily... here.
Rachel had barely waited for the waiter to place the bread basket on the table before reaching for a roll, her little fingers dancing with anticipation.
"This place smells like melted cheese and fairy dust," she whispered dramatically, eyes wide as she scanned the menu.
Bella stifled a laugh. "I think that's garlic and oregano, sweetheart."
Rachel made a thoughtful face. "Can I call it fairy dust anyway?"
Lucas, sitting across from them, leaned back with a lazy smile. "I don't think anyone's going to argue with a princess."
Their food came quickly—pasta for Bella, mini pizza for Rachel, and something meatier for Lucas. Bella watched, half amused, as he sliced through his steak like it was second nature while still managing to pass Rachel her napkin and refill her water without being asked.
He didn't make a show of it. That was the surprising part.
He just did it.
She wasn't sure when he'd started fitting into their lives so seamlessly. But now that he was here—sitting across from her in soft evening light, nodding along to Rachel's elaborate story about a unicorn named Jellybean—it was hard to imagine their dinners without him.
"Mommy?" Rachel piped up between bites. "Can we go for ice cream now?"
Bella looked at the half-eaten pizza. "You haven't even finished your dinner."
Rachel pouted. "But I'm saving room! I heard if you save room, the ice cream tastes better."
Lucas chuckled under his breath. "Who told you that?"
Rachel tilted her head. "You did. Last week."
Bella gave him a look. Lucas raised both hands in mock surrender. "I stand by my logic."