Emma stood sideways in front of the bathroom mirror, her hands cradling the prominent swell of her belly. At twenty weeks, she was officially halfway through the pregnancy, and her body had transformed dramatically. The gentle curve from months ago had become a full, rounded dome that stretched her skin taut and made her navel begin to pop outward. Her breasts were heavier, fuller, the veins visible beneath the skin as they prepared for milk. Stretch marks had started to appear like faint lightning across the sides of her belly badges of her surrender.
She turned slowly, admiring the weight of it. The baby kicked strongly, a reminder of the life growing inside her. *Their* life. Not Mark’s.
Mark had been doting more than ever lately rubbing lotion on her belly every night, talking to the
