“Closer together! Cal, tilt your head down. Hadley, look up at him like you’re sharing a secret!”
I lifted my eyes toward him.
For a fraction of a second, his sunglasses were lowered and I caught his gaze directly. There was exhaustion there. Confusion. Something flickering that looked dangerously close to vulnerability before it vanished behind the cold mask he wore so well.
It hit me unexpectedly.
A tiny, stupid spark of hope.
The kind that forms from scraps and survives on delusion.
“Cal, kiss her cheek, candid baby announcement moment!”
He leaned in.
His lips brushed my cheek. Quick. Cold. But I felt the faintest pause afterward, like he hesitated before pulling away. The warmth of his breath lingered along my skin, and my chest tightened painfully, hating myself for noticing it, for storing it away like it mattered.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Behind us, Eli stood frozen. Arms crossed. His jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscle flex.
“Okay, now hands on the bump, both of you,” the photographer said brightly. “Let’s show off the reason we’re here. This is the shot that tells the world.”
Cal hesitated for half a second before placing his hand over mine on my stomach.
The contact was light. Careful.
But it was the first time he had touched my bump in public.
The baby shifted beneath our palms. A slow flutter.
My breath caught. A sudden wave of emotion crashed into me, fear, longing, grief, hope, all tangled together in something raw and messy. For one fragile moment, standing under blinding lights with cameras flashing and strangers watching, it almost felt like we were what they were pretending we were.
The photographer grinned. “Beautiful. Perfect. That’s the announcement shot.”
Syd stood at the edge of the set, arms folded, lips curled in a knowing smirk. Every time Cal’s hand brushed my stomach, her expression tightened like she was tallying debts she intended to collect later.
“Alright, family hug!” the photographer called.
Cal pulled Eli in awkwardly with one arm.
Eli’s entire body went rigid. He didn’t hug back. He just stood there, trapped inside the frame like furniture arranged for visual balance.
I felt him trembling, small, controlled tremors that most people wouldn’t notice.
I noticed.
“That’s amazing,” the photographer said. “So real. So authentic.”
Ron clapped sharply. “That’s enough. We’ve got it.”
Cal dropped his arm immediately and stepped away like the entire setup had burned him. He walked toward the house without looking back.
Syd followed, brushing her shoulder deliberately against his as they disappeared inside together, their laughter trailing behind them, low, private, intimate. Like the photoshoot had just been an inconvenience interrupting their real life.
.......
I took Eli’s hand and led him into the kitchen.
