The next morning, I woke at 3 AM with my hand pressed to my stomach, the baby kicking hard enough to jolt me from sleep. Just a few months along, and already the changes were undeniable. The sickness had finally faded, replaced by this new awareness of the tiny life moving inside me.
In the quiet darkness of my dorm room, I traced light circles over the faint curve that was starting to show, harder and harder to hide beneath loose sweaters. My baby. Mine and Alex’s, though he’d made it clear he wanted no part of either of us.
“Hey there, little one,” I whispered. “You’re already stronger than I ever imagined.
The baby moved again, a soft flutter that made my chest tighten. I kept my hand on my stomach, rubbing gently, like I could already comfort the little life growing inside me.
Zoe
