“She grew up with me. I can’t just leave her alone right now.” His voice softened, almost pleading. “Once the baby’s born, I’ll send her abroad—Hollywood, maybe. Let her start fresh there.”
I said nothing. I just turned and went upstairs.
Even from the bedroom, their voices carried through the walls.
“Ouch, the baby kicked again!” Lily’s voice was high and sugary sweet.
I curled up in bed, my back to the door, my tears soaking into the pillow.
Late at night, I felt the bed sink slightly. Lucas lay down behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Nina, I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice rough. “We’ll have children. I promise.”
I froze.
He still didn’t know.
I hadn’t gone through with it. Our child was still here, growing quietly inside me.
Then, a sudden scream shattered the quiet.
“Don’t touch me! Get out of here! Don’t hit me!” Lily’s hysterical voice echoed from the next room.
Lucas shot up, didn’t even put on his slippers, and rushed out of the room.
All night, the hallway echoed with his soft, soothing whispers, trying to calm her.
By early morning, I dragged my weary body downstairs. My legs felt heavy, but I moved as if in a daze.