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

Sarah

pov.

I woke up that morning with an idea buzzing in my mind like a persistent fly. It wasn't about reorganizing the nursery or tackling the endless list of baby-related tasks.

No, this was different. I wanted to create something lasting, something that could capture the whirlwind of emotions, changes, and funny little moments we'd experienced during this pregnancy.

A photo album. It seemed simple enough, but as I sat at the dining table with my laptop, scrolling through photos, I realized this was about more than just pictures.

It was about preserving memories, the kind we might laugh at or cry over years from now. The first snapshot I found was of me holding a pickle jar in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, grinning like a lunatic.

"I forgot about that night," I murmured to myself, smiling. Richard had taken the picture after catching me sneaking into the kitchen at midnight. I remembered how he'd teased me for days, calling me his "sweet-and-sour queen." "Perfect," I said, adding it to the album template.

The next few photos I found were more routine-belly shots we'd taken every month, selfies from doctor's visits, and a few pictures of me surrounded by baby clothes. But as I scrolled further, I realized something was missing: Richard. Later that morning, I decided to change that. Richard was outside tinkering with something in the garage, so I grabbed my phone and quietly followed him.

Peeking through the doorway, I saw him hunched over a small bookshelf he'd decided to build for the nursery.

He was muttering to himself, a pencil tucked behind his ear and a tape measure in his hand. I couldn't resist. I snapped a quick photo.

"Caught in the act," I teased, stepping inside.

Richard looked up, startled. "What are you doing?"

up my phone. "Future generations need to know how hard their

rolled his eyes but smiled. "If you're going to take pictures,

I said, clicking another photo. "The

went back to measuring, but I could

days, I became a stealthy photographer, capturing candid moments of Richard without him

brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to figure out how

tiny onesie, looking both amused

couch with a baby book open on his chest. I almost didn't take it because it felt too sweet to disturb, but

treasure chest. There were silly moments, like my midnight craving picture, and heartwarming ones, like Richard working on the nursery. I couldn't wait to show him. That evening,

this?" he asked, glancing

been working on," I said,

popped up-the pickle-and-ice-cream shot. Richard laughed. "Oh, I remember this! You

by it," I said, nudging him

we reached the photos of him, his eyes widened. "Wait a

let you off the hook, did you? This is

unreadable. Then he

noticed," I said, placing a hand on his arm. "You're always doing these little things-building shelves, reading baby books, even just being there when I need you. I wanted to make sure you knew how much it matters." Richard

was of the nursery-a work in progress at the time. Richard pointed at the half-painted walls in the picture.

forget? You were so determined to

want you to

color, but because you cared so much.