Damian
Ivy was home.
But I hadn’t left.
After everything at the party, the hospital, and that sonogram, I couldn’t. Something had shifted in me, cracked open. I’d spent years constructing walls so high and thick no one ever dared to scale them.
Ivy didn’t scale them.
She shattered them from the inside.
When we left the hospital, I helped her into the car, watched her fold gently into the seat, one hand curled protectively over her stomach. She didn’t ask me to come home with her.
She just didn’t ask me to leave.
So I stayed.
The first night was quiet. She let me help her settle into bed, and I spent the night on the couch. Neither of us slept much. Every few hours, she stirred, and I’d sit at the edge of the bed and make sure she was okay. No words. Just presence.
Josh came by th
