เข้าสู่ระบบEight months pregnant is a scam.Nobody tells you that your feet will disappear, your back will constantly ache and every position you sit in will somehow become uncomfortable after ten minutes. Nobody tells you that rolling over in bed becomes an Olympic sport or that putting your socks on requires the flexibility of a gymnast and the patience of a saint. I love my daughter more than life itself and I already know that I would do absolutely anything for her, but right now she feels determined to lodge her foot somewhere between my ribs and my lungs. Between that and the constant pressure in my lower back, I'm pretty sure she's already plotting revenge for something I haven't even done yet.The weather report has been warning everyone about the storm for two days now and normally I wouldn't pay much attention to it, but living on the coast means storms feel different here. The ocean becomes darker, the wind becomes harsher and the sky turns an eerie shade of grey that makes everything
Three weeks.I’ve been in Barcelona for three weeks and somehow I’ve managed to find a balance between giving Maisie space and refusing to disappear again. It isn’t easy because every protective instinct inside me wants to be involved in everything, but I know pushing her will only send her running in the opposite direction. So instead I show up when she lets me, I answer when she calls, and I spend every single day trying to prove that my actions are worth more than any apology I could ever give her.The first time she lets me inside her apartment I nearly lose my mind.Not because of the apartment itself.Not because of the ocean view.Not because of the fact that she somehow manages to make a tiny place feel like a home.It’s because I see evidence of our daughter everywhere.There are baby books stacked neatly beside the sofa. Tiny socks folded on a coffee table. A half-built changing station sitting against the wall near the hallway, like she had every ounce of energy to do it bu
Pregnant.The word echoes around my head so loudly that I can barely hear the waves crashing against the shore. Every thought I had before finding her suddenly becomes insignificant. The months of searching, the sleepless nights, the guilt, the regret and the anger I directed at myself all collapse into one overwhelming realization. Maisie is pregnant and judging by the size of her stomach, she’s been pregnant for a long time. After asking her the ovbious questions of, do you know if it's a boy or a girl, she finally looks at me, smiles and tells me we are having a daughter. A little baby girl. Our baby. My daughter.Our daughter.I stare at her stomach again before dragging my eyes back up to her face because I don’t want her to think that’s all I see. God knows I deserve every terrible thing she probably thinks about me right now. The truth is that I’m trying to process the fact that while I’ve been spending months wondering if she’d ever forgive me, she’s been carrying our child
The wind coming off the ocean feels colder than it did an hour ago.Maybe it isn’t the weather.Maybe it’s the fact that Max Kenner is somewhere in Barcelona looking for me.I sit on the sand with my knees pulled up to my chest, my oversized hoodie stretched over my stomach. The waves crash against the shore over and over again, the same rhythm they’ve kept since the day I arrived here six months ago. Usually the sound settles me. Usually I can close my eyes and forget everything that happened in Texas. Today every wave feels like a countdown.Ruby disappeared twenty minutes ago.Twenty minutes of waiting.Twenty minutes of imagining every possible outcome.Twenty minutes of trying not to throw up.Not because of the pregnancy either.Because of him.I haven’t seen him in months. Not since before I left America. Not since before I packed up my entire life and boarded a plane with a broken heart and a positive pregnancy test sitting hidden in my handbag.My daughter kicks suddenly.A s
5 months Later. Okay so over the last 5 months since I've moved to Spain I have found my footing with my work, I have been open and happy about what I want to do and the photos I love to take. I have my own new website that I post on and it's thriving but somewhere along the lines of what I wanted to do because a project for further down the line. I made a few friends, Kai who is happily gay and enjoys move time with the girls at work than the guys and Ruby who loves to go shopping on the days off. The biggest surprise of everything since starting my fellow ship would have to be the little girl growing in my belly. Yes that's correct, I am over 5 months pregnant with Max's baby and I have no idea how or when to tell him. Everything I have done since moving here has been for me and the work is amazing. I have my own apartment after Ruby moved in with Lucas, her boyfriend but Jillian kept my rent the same as I have been paying even though I have savings now. Granted I'm thankful th
I read the letter that was posted this morning. I read it over and over again wondering what it all meant.I wanted to believe that I was doing the right thing and that everything I had ever worked for wouldn't be left to rot. My mom was always badgering us boys to be gentlemen and to treat women right and I must have spent a long while on the phone to my mom who cursed at me so much that I thought for a moment my dad might come down and beat some sense into me.What I did was wrong and what I want to do is fix everything that I have done wrong starting with Maisie.I try her Cell but it doesn't go through so I try her sisters phone."Mr Kenner" Emily says into the phone. It's 4 pm and she should be at her office space but right now I don't even care."Emily. Please tell me you know where Maisie is?""I'm sorry, I don't. I did get a letter from her though but I haven't opened it" she says into the phone. After everything me and Maisie have been through, all the good and bad and everyt
"Thank you," her soft voice echoed along the empty-ish car park. Hearing her conversation about me giving her my number and then needing cake, I assumed a peace offering for the last 72 hours would be a good start, assuming it would solve it, but then when I heard her groan, goddamn it, I couldn't e
Out of all the people I could see at the wedding, anyone across Houston, it could have been the pope or maybe the god; it could have been the guy who bullied her at school for being small or nerdy or for not having friends, but no, it had to be the guy from the coffee shop. Not that she was complain
Saturday morning, I've been woken up to the piercing shriek of my alarm clock; its mocking red numbers taunting me from the nightstand flashing the 6:30 usual time I wake up. I groaned, burrowing deeper into my cosy sheets, wishing that I could just stay in bed all day. But knowing I had to get up,
Present day: meaning the 21st century for a change and not in the Angies home, who we also called the 'old ladies home' because even though she was a career for children all of her friends would come over every couple of nights and never bloody leave... that is where I spent 6 months alone...without







