Ava’s POV
I hadn’t truly lived in weeks.
Every morning followed the same distressful routine, waking up to a crushing emptiness, my body already exhausted before the day had even begun. The moment my eyes fluttered open, nausea twisted my insides, sending me rushing to the bathroom to retch until I was left trembling and breathless on the cold tiled floor.
The rest of the day blurred into a bottomless cycle of sleep and nothingness, my body too drained to do anything else, not even eating. The thought of food alone made me want to retch out my intestines.
The doctor called it a mix of pregnancy symptoms and depression. But I knew better.
It was grief. A grief so deep it had settled into my bones, weighing me down, making every breath feel like a chore, every thought feel like a haunti
