BEN POVI stared at the darkened phone screen in my hand, the anger still bubbling beneath my skin. My fingers trembled, not from the cold but from everything that had been stirred up again—memories, wounds, truths no one ever cared to hear.I tossed the phone onto the bed and sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The bathroom still smelled faintly of eucalyptus and steam, a stark contrast to the bitterness I now tasted on my tongue. I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling small again—too small to carry the weight of a baby, of grief, of history.A knock came at the door, light and hesitant.“Ben?” It was Nolan.I cleared my throat. “Yeah?”“Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry.”I hesitated. My appetite had disappeared the moment I heard my mother’s voice, but I knew skipping meals wouldn’t help the baby.“Okay,” I said, my voice barely audible.He waited a beat longer. “Take your time.”I heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, and I sighed in relief. Nolan was giving me space, b
Last Updated : 2025-06-04 Read more