FREYA
I do not go to bed when I get home.
I run the shower in the bathroom of my own room until the mirror fogs and the air goes warm, and I peel out of the day's clothes and stand for a long time on the cool tile floor with the water running and one hand resting low on my belly.
The belly is rounder than it was a week ago.
Not enough to show under clothes yet. Enough that when I turn my body to the side and look at myself in the fogged mirror, the shape is unmistakable. Soon. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Soon. I won't be able to hide this pregnancy any longer.
I could bring up the divorce again with Eli, see if he'll set me free so I can go somewhere with my baby but my conscience pricks me, right now, the pack needs me and I have a target on my back and do not even know why.
Leaving
