(A Few Months Later)
Kate
I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. I looked like a bloated buffalo—my stomach so huge now that I couldn’t even see my feet.
Alex’s parents laughed about it, teasing me gently.
“You’re carrying a Robbins baby—it’s normal,” they said.
But I noticed something. Every time someone brought up the pregnancy, Alex tensed. He became quiet. Guarded. Like each mention of the baby made everything more real, more irreversible.
Things have changed between us—subtle things that carry so much weight.
He never leaves the bed after we make love anymore. He asks about my doctor appointments, but not once has he come with me. And in those small gaps, I see the truth he won’t speak aloud: he’s still holding himself back. Still keeping a distance.
He never asks about
