Kian
Words weren't enough to describe the heavy weight that sat on my chest, the pain that kept twisting my heart as memories of Verena flooded my head. The night that she spoke with me, how kissing her for the first time felt like heaven, the excitement that came from knowing that she was pregnant, then consoling her after the miscarriage, the silence that followed after as we drifted apart and the satisfaction that came from seeing her in our home even though we barely said a word to each other—Gone. It was all gone like a flicker in the night.
Here I was being a mess, a wreck and then she dared to smile as if we never shared something meaningful? As if that was enough, she gloated to my face by kissing my uncle in the parking lot.
How was she not sad? How could she not feel the sam
