MACEY
The car ride home was the quietest thing I’d ever lived through. Not even the hum of the engine could fill it.
Damien kept his eyes on the road, both hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. The silence between us wasn’t angry; it was heavy. Too heavy.
I wanted to say something, anything, but every word that formed in my throat felt useless.
My chest still ached from the scene at the hospital. I’d said things I shouldn’t have, things I didn’t even mean. But they were true, weren’t they? He didn’t love me. He never said it. So how could he love a baby?
I turned my face toward the window and watched the streetlights pass in streaks of gold. My reflection stared back at me, eyes red and puffy, lips pressed together so tight they hurt. I didn’
