He lies on the bed, and I curl into his side, needing his strength, his warmth, his heartbeat. We hold onto each other in silence, letting the weight of the day settle around us.
Usually, he sleeps in the spare bed the hospital provides, but not tonight. He refuses to leave me, and I need him close more than I need comfort. The bed is cramped, my leg is aching, but I don’t care because Colt is hurting just as much as I am.
I can feel it in the way he holds me.
So I hold him right back.
I have to be strong—for him.
It’s strange, the way grief loops. One moment, I’m convinced I am not good enough for him. Next, he thinks the same about himself.
But the truth is…
… we’re both broken.
And maybe that’s why we fit.
Still, I can’t help wondering—will I be enough for him now?
I stare out at the night sky, sleepless and hollow. The doctor’s words replay in my head, a slow echo I can’t escape.
My world tilted on its axis in one single breath.
I haven’t seen Mummy or Daddy today. And honestly, I’m relieved. I wouldn’t know how to face them.
How do I tell the people who raised me that the daughter they sent off into the world came back missing something she never even imagined losing?
I can’t even say it to myself.
How could Ieversay it to them?
But the person I’m dreading most is Anna. She’s my best friend. I love her. I want to cry on her shoulder, tell her how my world has shattered.
But she’s pregnant.
And that fact? That’s everything I’ve lost.
Yesterday, she was here, glowing with excitement.
But today? Today, it feels like a lifetime ago.
And I don’t know how I’ll face her again.
Will I be able to meet her baby?
To hold him?
To celebrate with her instead of resenting her?
God, I hope so.
The last thing I want is to punish Anna for being happy because I can’t be. I wipe a tear from my cheek as the thoughts swirl faster than I can catch them.
Everything is different now.
For me.
For Colt.
