Chapter 32: The Day He Arrived
The last months of pregnancy passed like a dream I kept expecting someone to interrupt. That was the strange part. Not that life became perfect. It didn’t. Anton was still Anton, which meant he was still overbearing, still too observant, still capable of making concern sound like an instruction from a man accustomed to being obeyed. I was still myself, which meant I still argued with him on principle, even when the principle was usually that I did not want to be told to sit down, drink water, eat more, sleep longer, or stop pretending exhaustion was a character trait. But the house changed things. Or maybe it changed us. Days there had a rhythm I had never really believed people like us were allowed to have. Morning light in the kitchen. Anton already awake, always, somehow equally ca
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