VIV’S POV
The curtains in my room barely let in the light these days, but I liked it that way.
The dimness suited the dull ache that lived inside my chest. I lay curled up on the bed, my hand instinctively resting on my slightly rounded belly. It wasn’t too obvious yet, but it was undeniable now. The second trimester had crept up on me like a quiet storm.
I couldn’t wear half of my old clothes anymore. My heels were beginning to pinch, and I had long since traded out my wine nights for long, empty hours of silence and sleep.
The wine bottle on the nightstand still had some left in it, from weeks ago. I hadn’t touched it. Not since the doctor reminded me that alcohol was a no-go if I cared even a bit about the baby.
I did. Despite everything, I did.
Even if its father didn’t want
