Amidst the complexity, he held onto a piece of concealed joy.

It was his restored memories.

The following day marked Rena's discharge from the hospital.

Though the Fowler family had intended a grand celebration, their plans shifted to accommodate Rena's pregnancy. The festivities gave way to an intimate gathering at home.

Downstairs, an appetizing aroma wafted, luring the children with inquisitive eyes. Waylen ushered them to their seats and ascended the stairs, his purpose clear which was to invite Rena to dine.

Upstairs, the living room emanated warmth, a cozy haven for Rena as she nestled into the sofa, engrossed in a parenting book.

At the doorway, Waylen stood, a silent observer.

Draped in a blush-toned, Loose-knit sweater paired with a floral dress,

Rena's pregnancy was scarcely detectable.

Yet, her femininity was undeniable, her radiance augmented by their recent hospital rendezvous.

Despite those stolen moments in the hospital, home held a different allure.

Waylen approached, his form bending as he brushed a tender kiss against

Rena's nape. Playfully, he said, “You've birthed two children. Why are you still engrossed in this?"

A natural exchange of kisses followed.

After a lingering embrace, Rena's voice, velvety soft, articulated her rationale.

“I want our baby's father to be just as informed. I won't take on this journey alone."

Waylen's mind rewound to the past.

Rena's Labor with Alexis was shadowed by his trial in Braseovell, the same morning their villa was engulfed in flames.

The birth of Marcus was tainted by Mavis's interference, depriving Rena of proper care.

Regret rippled through Waylen, a pang of sympathy for Rena's past experiences.

Seated beside her, Waylen pressed his forehead against Rena's, a gesture of intimacy. He murmured, "I vow to cherish the mother of our baby. Rest easy, Miss Gordon."

Rena's gaze ascended, her lashes quivering ever so slightly.