Jeremiah didn't move.
He remained on his knees, staring at the empty space on the couch where Michelle had been just moments ago. The air in the cabin, which had felt so warm and heavy with the scent of gingerbread and longing, now felt like ice.
The silence was a physical weight, crushing the air from his lungs.
Pregnant.
The word echoed in his head like a gunshot, over and over again, refusing to settle, refusing to soften.
I was pregnant.
She had said.
A child.
His child.
The word echoed in his mind, a hollow, haunting sound. He hadn't just lost a girlfriend ten years ago. He hadn't just lost the love of his life. He had lost a son or a daughter. A life that would have been nine, maybe ten years old now. A sibling for Daisy.
He collapsed back onto his heels, his hands shaking
