Later that day, the two of us retreated to the garden, seeking solace in the fresh air and vibrant blooms. I sat on a cushioned bench, my hands still resting protectively over my belly. Michael joined me, holding a steaming cup of tea he had brewed himself—a small but meaningful gesture of care.
"Do you remember the first time we came out here together?" Michael asked, breaking the silence.
I nodded, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "You were trying to impress me with your knowledge of flowers. I think you called a daisy a chrysanthemum. And we spoke about your sister ."
Michael chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. "Hey, I've improved since then. I can now correctly identify at least three flowers. I miss my sister a lot, may her soul rest in perfect peace"
