The Baby Isn't Mine, and I'm Allergic to Men
He had always been the one avoiding me, and I had never once pulled away from him, even though I was the one who suffered through the allergic reactions.
When we got home, Leonard claimed he still had work to finish, yet he knelt down and spoke softly to the baby in my belly.
"Don't kick Mommy, sweetheart. Daddy doesn't want her to hurt."
If this had happened before, I would have been dizzy with happiness, grateful for the child growing inside me, and certain I had a husband who loved me.
Now every word cut like a blade. My heart bled with every syllable.
As always, Leonard brought me a warm glass of milk. His eyes curved with a familiar smile.