Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Sarah pov.

The morning of our ultrasound appointment was buzzing with a mix of nerves and excitement. I woke up before the alarm, staring at the ceiling as the baby flutters danced faintly in my belly. Was today the day we'd learn more about who this little person was going to be? Richard stirred beside me, groaning softly as he flung an arm over his face. "Do we have to wake up this early for a jelly-belly appointment?" he muttered groggily, and I chuckled, nudging him with my elbow. "It's not that early," I teased. "And don't call it a jelly-belly appointment. You make it sound like dessert." He cracked one eye open and grinned. "Fine. Let's go meet the little jellybean, then." At the clinic, the waiting room was bustling with expectant mothers and their partners. Swere chatting excitedly, while others sat quietly, hands resting on their bumps like they were protecting the world's greatest secret. I couldn't help but feel a rush of solidarity-we were all in this together, even if we didn't know each other. When our nwas called, Richard stood and offeredhis hand with a tic flourish, making the receptionist smile. "Your chariot awaits, my lady," he said in an exaggerated posh accent. "Stop it," I whispered, biting back a laugh.

Inside the dimly lit ultrasound room, the technician greeted us warmly. I lay back on the table, trying to get comfortable despite the butterflies in my stomach.

Richard sat beside me, his hand clasping mine as if to say, I've got you.

The cool gel spread across my belly, and I winced slightly. "They really need to warm this stuff up," I joked. "Yeah, and maybe make it smell like chocolate," Richard added, earning a laugh from the technician.

As the screen flickered to life, we both fell silent. The tiny, grainy image of our baby appeared, and I felt an overwhelming surge of love.

There they were, wriggling and waving as if they knew we were watching.

"There's your baby," the technician said with a smile, moving the wand gently. "Strong heartbeat, good movement-everything looks great." Richard leaned closer, his eyes glued to the screen. "Look at that! Is that a little foot?" "Yes," the technician confirmed. "A very active little one." I couldn't tear my eyes away either. This was our baby, the person we were already rearranging our lives for.

I squeezed Richard's hand, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"Now," the technician continued, "do you want to know the baby's gender today?" Richard and I exchanged a look. We'd discussed this before but hadn't reached a final decision. I could see the curiosity flickering in his eyes, and honestly, I felt the same. But there was something about waiting, about savoring the moment a little longer.

"Can you write it down instead?" I asked. "We'll open it later." "Of course," she said, grabbing an envelope. She scribbled something on a small piece of paper, folded it neatly, and sealed it inside. "Here you go. Whenever you're ready." Richard took the envelope as if it contained a treasure map, tucking it carefully into his pocket. "We'll save this for a rainy day," he said with a wink. Back at home, I couldn't stop thinking about the envelope. It sat on the kitchen counter, tauntinglike a wrapped gift on Christmas morning.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" I asked Richard as we stood in the kitchen, unpacking groceries.

He paused, holding a jar of pickles in one hand. "I don't know. Does it matter?" "Of course not," I said quickly. "But I'm just... curious. You know, imagining whether we'll be buying tiny dresses or tiny bow ties." Richard smirked. "You're already planning their wardrobe?" "Well, someone has to," I shot back playfully. "You're more interested in whether they'll prefer Star Wars or Marvel." "Hey, that's important too!" he argued, feigning offense. "We have to set the right priorities." We laughed, the tension from the day melting away. The envelope could wait a little longer. For now, it was enough to know our baby was healthy and thriving.

Later that evening, I found myself in the nursery. It was still a work in progress, with a mix of neutral tones and a few splashes of color.

Would we be adding more pinks or blues soon? Or maybe sticking with this peaceful palette? I ran my hand over the crib we'd assembled together a few weeks ago, remembering the arguments over the instructions and the triumphant high-five when we finally got it right. The room felt alive with possibility, even in its incomplete state.

Richard joined me, leaning against the doorfrwith a small smile. "Penny for your thoughts?" "I was just imagining what it'll be like," I said softly. "Rocking them to sleep, watching them take their first steps... all of it." He crossed the room and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "It's going to be amazing," he said firmly. "And chaotic. And probably messy. But mostly amazing." I nodded, resting my head against his chest. "Do you think we'll be good at this? Parenting, I mean." "Absolutely," he said without hesitation. "We're already a team, and that's half the battle, right?" I smiled, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. He was right. We might not have all the answers, but we had each other. And that was enough.

*** The morning light streamed through the curtains, spilling golden streaks across the bedroom floor. I woke up feeling giddy, like a child on Christmas morning.

Today was the day we'd find out if we were having a boy or a girl. The anticipation was bubbling inside me, and I couldn't help but grin as I turned to Richard, who was still asleep, his mouth slightly open. "Wake up," I said softly, poking his arm. "It's cake day!" He groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. "Cake can wait. Sleep first." "Nope," I insisted, tugging the blanket away. "The baker needs the paper, and we need to get moving." With a tic sigh, Richard sat up, his hair sticking out in every direction. "Fine, but you owecoffee." After breakfast, we headed to the bakery. It was a charming little place we'd discovered a few months ago, with pastel-colored walls and the most divine smell of freshly baked bread.

The woman at the counter greeted us warmly, her smile widening when I explained our request.

"So, you want a gender reveal cake?" she confirmed, glancing at the sealed envelope I handed her.

"Yes," I said, feeling a twinge of excitement. "We want the inside to be pink or blue, depending on what's in that envelope. The outside can just be plain white with sdecorations." Richard leaned against the counter, pretending to examine the pastries on display. "Can you make it taste like chocolate? I think our baby deserves a chocolate welcome." The baker chuckled. "Of course. Chocolate it is." As we left the bakery, I felt a mix of nerves and anticipation. The envelope was no longer in our possession, and the next twe saw it-or rather, tasted it-it would reveal the answer we'd been waiting for. "Are you nervous?" I asked Richard as we walked to the car.

"Not really," he said, opening the door for me. "But I am hungry. Can we eat the cake before dinner?" "No," I said firmly, laughing. "We're doing this properly, after dinner, with pictures and everything." "Fine," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "But if I starve before then, it's on you." The day dragged on, and I found myself checking the clock more often than usual. I busied myself with little tasks-folding laundry, organizing baby clothes, and even dusting the living room shelves. But no matter what I did, my mind kept drifting back to the cake. Was it pink? Was it blue? Would our baby be a little girl or a little boy? Richard spent most of the afternoon tinkering in the garage, which I suspected was his way of passing the time. When he finally cinside, he was covered in grease and holding a small wrench triumphantly.

"What did you even fix?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," he admitted, grinning. "I just needed a distraction." Finally, it was tfor dinner. I made spaghetti, partly because it was quick and partly because I knew it was one of Richard's favorites.

We ate at the dining table, the cake box sitting on the counter in plain sight. It felt like it was mocking me, daringto open it early.

"Don't even think about it," Richard said, catchingstaring at the box.

"I wasn't!" I protested, though I definitely was.

He smirked. "You've been eyeing that thing all day. Let's just get through dinner, and then we'll see if you've been right about your pink hunch."

After what felt like the longest meal of my life, we finally moved to the et tripod., living room. I set up my phon@dra wanting to capture the moment for our memories. Richard brought the cake to the coffee table, holding it like it was made of glass. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking atwith a grin.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.

He handedthe knife, and together, we sliced through the smooth white frosting. Tseemed to slow as we lifted the first slice, revealing a bright pink center.

"It's a girl," I whispered, staring at the cake as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Richard's face lit up, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "A girl," he repeated, his voice filled with wonder. "We're having a little girl." Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh through them. "I knew it," I said, wiping my cheeks. "I just had a feeling." Richard pulledinto a hug, holdingclose. "She's going to be amazing," he said softly. "Just like her mom."

We spent the rest of the evening celebrating in our own little way m Richard insisted on Xaving a second slice of cake, claiming it was for the baby, and I took dozens of pictures to document the moment. "I can't believe we're going to have a daughter," I said as we sat on the couch, the empty cake box on the table in front of us.

neither," Richard said, his hand resting on my bump. "Do you think she'll like Star Wars?" I rolled my eyes. "She's not even born yet, and you're already planning movie nights." "Hey, it's important to start them young," he said with a wink.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The questions and uncertainties of the el past few weeks seemed smaller now, replaced by the joy of knowing more about the little person growing inside me. A daughter. I couldn't wait to meet her, to hold her, to see her tiny face and hear her first cry. And I couldn't wait to watch Richard becthe amazing dad I knew he would be.

As I drifted off to sleep, I placed my hand on my belly, whispering, "We can't wait to meet you, baby girl."