I take another step back, then turn, slipping quietly away from the display. The closer I get to the exit, the easier it is to breathe.
No one calls my name. No one notices I’m gone. And by the time I reach the door, I don’t hesitate.
I slip outside into the cool air, dragging in a breath like I’ve been holding it for far too long.
I don’t stop walking.
The cold air hits my face, but it doesn’t clear my head. If anything, it makes everything sharper. Louder. My chest tight as I move down the street, past people who don’t even glance my way, all caught up in their own lives. Their own worlds.
I wrap my arms loosely around myself, my fingers brushing over my bump as I try to steady my breathing.
I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t feel . . . pushed out.
Because in there, it wasn’t us preparing for a baby. It was Ray, and I was just . . . there. An afterthought.A vessel.The thought makes my stomach twist, and I pick up my pace, like I can outrun it.
A sharp banging sound cuts through the noise around me.
I frown, slowing. It comes again, louder this time. I glance around and notice a hand smacking against the café window. Sofia waves frantically, grinning and indicating for me to go inside.
For a moment, I just stare. Of all the places . . . all the people . . . then she taps the glass again, raising a brow like she’s not taking no for an answer.
A small, reluctant breath leaves me, and before I can overthink it, I head inside. The bell above the café door chimes and warmth wraps around me instantly, along with the rich scent of coffee.
Sofia watches me the entire way over. I slow as I reach her table, suddenly unsure what to say, what I must look like right now.
She tilts her head, eyes scanning my face. “You look like you’ve just walked out of a war zone,” she says bluntly.
I let out a breath that almost turns into a laugh, dropping into the seat opposite her. “Close enough.”
She nods to the waitress behind the till. “Another coffee, please.”
“Decaf,” I cut in. “What are you doing in here?”
She smiles, sipping her own coffee. “I love sitting here, people watching,” she says, shrugging. “It’s my happy place.”
“I need to find myself one of those,” I mutter, and when she arches a brow, I add, “A happy place.”
“Things not going well?”
I scoff. “Understatement.”
The waitress places a coffee in front of me and I smile gratefully.
“What’s he done now?” Sofia asks.
“He took me baby shopping,” I reply. I take a sip of coffee and close my eyes as the bitter taste lights up my soul. “Ray insisted I drink decaf,” I add thoughtfully. “Yet even when he’s not here, I still do it. That’s the kind of shit he puts in my head, and I don’t even realise it.”
She watches me for a minute, her brows knitted together like she’s working out the best way to say something.
I groan. “Just say it.”
A smile plays on her lips. “I’m just trying to work out what Ray did wrong. You said he took you shopping?”
“Baby shopping,” I correct.
“And that’s awful because . . .”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “I don’t know.”
