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

Sarah pov.

My second trimester.

The nursery had become my personal Everest. Every time I walked by that half-finished room, I felt it mocking me-chaotic and incomplete, just like my confidence.

The crib was still in its box, the curtains were too short, and the tiny clothes Richard had folded with so much care looked lost in the clutter.

I stood in the doorway that morning, holding a paint swatch in one hand and a baby blanket in the other. "Alright," I muttered to myself. "Today's the day."

But where to begin? The mountain of choices loomed in front of me, each decision feeling like it carried the weight of the world.

Should I pick a light color? A dark one? A theme? Should I do the walls in stripes or leave it neutral?

Everything felt like a big deal, even though logically, I knew it probably wasn't. Was I overthinking it? Probably.

I took a deep breath and stood still for a moment. I felt like a million thoughts were swirling around my head at once, and none of them were helping.

The baby was coming soon-whether the room was ready or not. Why was I letting something like paint and furniture take up so much space in my mind?

I should have felt excitement. Instead, I felt paralyzed by choices. Shouldn't I be making these decisions with ease?

Other parents seemed so confident-maybe too confident. They knew exactly what they wanted. Not me.

I sat down on the floor, my legs suddenly weak under the weight of it all. Maybe I should have let Richard take the lead on this.

He always seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. Maybe I was just too tired. Or too emotional.

I was pregnant, after all. But that thought didn't make me feel better. It only made me feel like I was making excuses.

That's when I pulled out my phone. I needed a little outside perspective. Zoe always had a way of cutting through the noise.

talk me down from anything. I dialed her number and waited, watching the cluttered room as I heard the ringing tone in my

cracked through the phone,

my voice steady but failing miserably. "I'm standing here in the nursery, holding this paint swatch, and I feel like

way only Zoe's laughter could be. "Okay, first of all, deep breaths, Sarah. It's not

feels like

pregnant. Of course you're

like every little thing is a big decision. And

is just a room. It's not going to define how your

you and the baby feel comfortable, and where you're going to spend a lot of time together. That's all. Stop stressing."

it out. It's just a room.

in the choices. "I was thinking of

you a headache every time you walk in the room. You'll be looking at it

decision down. See how easy that

to figure out furniture. Crib placement, changing table... it's like there

to you. No one else is going to care where

knew she couldn't see me. "Okay. I'll

get too caught up in all the tiny details. It's easy to want everything perfect, but perfection doesn't exist. Your baby won't care if you go with a pink crib or a wooden one. They just want your love and attention."

go get started. The room won't finish

at

"Good. You've got this."

***

still echoing in my mind, I felt the weight on my shoulders begin to lift. I knew it wasn't going to be perfect, but

of things I had yet to put together. "Hey," Richard said as

a little forced. "Yeah, I've made some progress. Sage green,

said, his eyes lighting up as he came over and kissed my cheek. "Looks

advice. She

"That sounds like Zoe.

my jeans, "I think I'm going to focus on the crib first. I

"Sounds like a plan."