There are moments when I just sit in the quiet kitchen, wondering, “Did I choose the wrong person?” But then my baby shifts inside me, reminding me I’m not alone.
Nathan wasn’t always like this. He used to be gentle, caring, at least in the beginning. But ever since I got pregnant, he’s become distant, irritable, and overly critical. The time I forgot to buy his favorite coffee, he looked at me and said coldly, “So what? You stay home all day just to eat and sleep?” Those words cut deep, but I didn’t respond. I knew he’d blame it on pregnancy hormones. So, I swallowed my anger, forced a smile, and told myself, Just a little longer. When the baby comes, things will change. But deep down, I knew maybe I was clinging to a false hope.
That morning, I woke up earlier than usual, my back aching. I made my way to the kitchen to brew coffee for Nathan. I set the steaming mug on the table next to a simple breakfast. He walked in, phone in hand. “The toast’s burnt. Can’t you even use the toaster?”
I bit my lip. “I’m sorry. The toaster’s been acting up lately.”
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