Once again, Catherine woke up in the early hours of the morning, her stomach churning with a violent nausea.
When the retching finally stopped, a wave of weakness washed over her. She gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white, needing the support as her legs threatened to give way. She bit her lower lip, fighting back the sting in her eyes, but it was a losing battle. The tears finally spilled over, hot and silent.
She felt a profound sense of self-pity. She had never imagined her life would turn out like this. Before she was thrust into this reality, she had dreamed that marriage meant having a partner—someone to hold her hand through the hardships and celebrate the joys.
She had pictured a husband who would wake up with her when the morning sickness hit, someone to rub her back
