DESTINY'S HAND
"Am I losing the baby?"
My panicked voice rings around out, Shirley's face gathering palness as if you've powdered the dead, while Grayson has yet to utter a word. He's just kneeeling before me, hands dabbled in the trickle of blood that trails down my thighs.
My bottom lip starts to wobble and I know I'm about to break the dam. Their silence was enough.
"Gray" I say quietly. "Tell me I'm not losing the baby"
No answer comes my way as he just stays there silent in his contemplation. Every inch of it enough to drive me crazy. I needed validation, hope. Anything except the radio silence he left me.
In anger, I brushed his hands to the side, pulling down my dress as I crawled away sobbing to myself. This was the only gift I could give to him, the only thing that made us equals. Equal in sacrifices, equal in eagerness to fill the void that wants to consume both of us. I sob to myself and on my own, distraught about the prospects of our future. Without the baby, Grayson won
