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?"

I said, holding up my phone. "Future generations need to know

you're going to take pictures, at least wait until I finish. This thing's

it now," I said, clicking another

but I could see the faintest hint of a

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

box of baby toys, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to figure

holding up a tiny onesie, looking both amused and

fell asleep on the couch with a baby book open on his chest. I

album felt like a treasure chest. There were silly moments, like my midnight craving picture, and heartwarming ones, like Richard working on

he asked, glancing at the

been working on," I said, opening

laughed. "Oh, I

it,"

When we reached

did you? This

Then he turned to me,

I need you. I wanted to make sure you knew how much it matters." Richard didn't say anything for a while, but his hand

next photo was of the nursery-a work in progress at the time. Richard pointed at the half-painted walls in the picture. "Remember when I accidentally bought the wrong

forget? You were so determined to fix it

didn't want you to be

because of the color, but because you