NINE
Early February…
“Aren’t you lonely in here yet?” I ask, after scarfing all my food and then placing my hands on my expanded belly and patting it for a job well done. Life is good, the food was great, and the company is even better. I watch Ayden chew his lasagna in that careful way of his, where I just shove it into my mouth because I go from being not hungry to starving with no happy medium in between.
“I like being alone. I’m not bothered by my own company.” Ayden shrugs it off, but I know better. He’s asked me about the neighbourhoods nearby and scoured the listings for an apartment to rent, and while Toronto is building literally thousands of units a day, they still seem scarce. He wipes his mouth, carefully again, looking at me with an intensity that would make me squirm if I
