I woke up feeling like my body had been drained of everything. My limbs were heavy, my stomach ached, and my head felt foggy. The faint morning light filtered through the curtains, but it only intensified the pounding behind my eyes. I hadn’t expected to feel this empty after the abortion—physically and emotionally.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to summon the energy to move. But every part of me felt like it was weighed down. I wasn’t sure if it was just the aftereffects of the procedure or the suffocating reality of what my life had become. Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything anymore. Not even when I heard Rozen’s heavy footsteps outside the bedroom door.
The door creaked open, and he stepped inside, looking as if the world owed him something. “Chloe,” he said, his voice sharp. “Where’s breakfast?”
I didn’t even bother turning my head. Of course, that’s what he was concerned about. Not how I was feeling. Not where I’d been. Not what I had done. Just his damn breakfast.
“Chloe!” Rozen’s voice was louder now, irritated. “Did you not hear me? Where’s my breakfast?”