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

Sarah pov.

The house smelled like roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread, and the faint sound of laughter filled the air.

I was setting up the dining table when the doorbell rang. My friends had promised to cover for a small lunch, and even though I had planned everything carefully, I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. Hosting anything felt like a big deal these days-I got tired so easily. But I missed my girls, and today felt like the perfect excuse to catch up.

"Coming!" I called out, adjusting a plate before hurrying to the door.

When I opened it, Tanya stood there with a big grin and an even bigger box wrapped in shiny paper. Behind her were Nina and Claire, both carrying smaller gift bags.

"Baby shower cearly!" Tanya announced, stepping inside and kissingon the cheek.

"Oh, con," I said, laughing. "It's just lunch. No gifts necessary." "Yeah, well, too late," Nina chimed in, holding up a bag decorated with tiny rattles and pacifiers. "This is happening whether you like it or not." I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop smiling. These girls always knew how to makefeel loved.

The meal was simple but delicious. Roasted chicken, a hearty salad, warm bread-it was nothing fancy, but everyone seemed to enjoy it.

We sat around the table, talking and laughing like no thad passed since our last get-together.

"So," Claire started, leaning forward with a teasing smile, "any weird cravings yet? Pickles and ice cream? Peanut butter on pizza?" I laughed, shaking my head. "Nothing that crazy. Mostly fruit, honestly. Although there was this one night I really wanted mustard on crackers." "Mustard?" Tanya asked, making a face. "That's... different." "Richard was horrified," I said, grinning. "But he brought it toanyway. That man deserves a medal." The conversation shifted to their own parenting stories. Tanya, who had two toddlers, shared a hilarious tale about her three-year-old hiding her car keys in the laundry basket.

Nina, who didn't have kids yet, asked questions about everything from diapers to midnight feedings. Claire, the most experienced of the group, gave practical advice with the calm authority of someone who'd been through it all.

"Just remember," Claire said, pointing her fork at me, "everybody's going to have an opinion about how you should do things. But you know your baby better than anyone. Trust your instincts." I nodded, trying to soak in every word. It felt good to hear their stories and know I wasn't alone in this journey. When they left, the house felt quiet again. I stood in the dining room, looking at the pile of gifts they'd left behind. There were tiny clothes, soft blankets, and even a book of bedtstories.

I started tidying up, clearing plates and wiping down the table. As I worked, my mind wandered.

Pregnancy had changed so much about my life. Schanges were obvious-my growing belly, the constant exhaustion-but others were more subtle.

My friendships, for example. I used to go out all the time, meeting up with friends for coffee or shopping. But now, my energy was limited, and our meet-ups were less frequent.

At first, I worried that the distance would strain our relationships. But today remindedhow strong those bonds were.

Tanya, Nina, and Claire didn't care if I was too tired to leave the house or if I spent half the conversation complaining about swollen ankles. They just wanted to be there for me, and that meant everything.

As I stacked the dishes in the sink, I realized how lucky I was to have people like them in my corner. Including Zoe who video called later in the day.

That evening, after I'd finished tidying up and was lounging on the couch with a glass of water, Richard walked in. He had his hands behind his back, and there was a sly smile on his face.

"What are you up to?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"Why?" "Just do it." I sighed but played along, shutting my eyes and holding out my hands. I heard the rustle of paper and felt something light being placed in my lap.

"Okay, you can open them now." When I opened my eyes, I saw a folded piece of paper resting on top of a notebook. I looked up at Richard, confused.

"What's this?" "Just read it," he said, sitting down beside me.

I unfolded the paper and started reading. It was a letter, written in Richard's familiar handwriting.

Dear Baby, it began.

I felt my throat tighten as I read the words. He'd written about how om excited he was to meet our baby, how he was already imagining their first steps, their first words, and all the adventures they'd have together. He talked about his hopes for their future, how he wanted to teach them to ride a bike, to be kind, and to never be afraid of making mistakes.

By the tI finished, tears were streaming down my face.

"Richard," I whispered, clutching the letter. "This is... I don't even have words."

"I just wanted to put it out there," he said, his voice soft. "I know I joke around a lot, but I'm really looking forward to this. To being a dad. And I wanted you-and the baby-to know that." I set the letter down and threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder.

"You're going to be an amazing dad," I said, my voice muffled.

He heldclose, and for a while, we just sat there, wrapped in each other's arms.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about the day. The laughter with my friends, then quiet moments of reflection while tidying up, and Richard's beautiful letter-it all felt like pieces of a puzzle coming together. I placed my hand on my belly, feeling the faint flutter of movement. "We're so lucky," I whispered. "You've got a dad who loves you so much already, and you've got friends and family who can't wait to meet you. You're going to be so loved." The baby didn't respond, of course, but I liked to imagine they could hear me.

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a deep sense of peace. This journey wasn't always easy, but it was mine, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.