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. Some were 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 name was called, Richard stood and offered me his hand with a dramatic 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, taunting me like a wrapped gift on Christmas morning.

girl?" I asked Richard as we stood in the kitchen, unpacking

paused, holding a jar of pickles in one hand. "I

course not," I said quickly. "But I'm just... curious. You know, imagining whether we'll be buying tiny dresses or

smirked. "You're already planning their

playfully. "You're more

too!" he argued, feigning offense. "We have to set the right

laughed, the tension from the day melting away. The envelope could wait a little longer. For now, it was enough to know

in the nursery. It was still a work in progress, with a mix of neutral tones and

we be adding more pinks or blues soon? Or maybe sticking with this peaceful

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

doorframe with a small smile.

said softly. "Rocking them to

room and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "It's going to

my head against his chest. "Do you think we'll be good at this? Parenting,

already a team, and that's half

renewed sense of confidence. He was right. We might not have

***

bedroom floor. I woke up

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,

blanket over his head. "Cake can wait.

tugging the blanket away. "The baker needs the paper, and

dramatic sigh, Richard sat up, his hair sticking out in every

discovered a few months ago, with pastel-colored walls and the most divine smell of freshly baked

at the counter greeted us warmly, her smile widening when I explained our

she confirmed, glancing at the sealed envelope I

want the inside to be pink or blue, depending on what's in that envelope.

counter, pretending to examine the pastries on display. "Can you make

chuckled. "Of

in our possession, and the next time we saw it-or rather, tasted

me. "But

doing this properly, after dinner, with

sigh. "But if I starve before then, it's

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

of the afternoon tinkering in the garage, which I suspected was his way of passing the

he was covered in grease and

you even fix?" I asked,

grinning. "I just needed