Jenna didn’t remember when she stopped crying—only that her pillow was soaked and the ache in her chest had settled like a thorn in her ribs.
The room was dark now. There are no rays of light through the curtains.
Jenna lay curled on the far side of her bed, away from the door, away from everything that reminded her of him. Her pillow was damp beneath her cheek, soaked with silent tears she had long stopped trying to hold back.
She hated how easily her body betrayed her emotions. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, painful breaths, and her hand trembled as she stroked her swollen belly. The babies had grown quieter tonight, as if they too felt the tension that wrapped itself like a smoke around the villa.
She didn’t know how long she cried for—minutes, hours—until exhaustion dragged he
