I saw my brother-in-law get into my newly purchased car as if it belonged to him. “Give me back the keys,” I said, trembling, but my mother-in-law called me “ungrateful,” and seconds later, a brutal kick to the stomach changed my life forever.

I felt as though the very life was being drained out of my body and replaced with a cold, hollow emptiness that I could not describe.

I had been carrying that secret for twelve weeks and dreaming of the perfect moment to share the joyous news with the world.

I wanted to wait until I felt completely safe and secure before I allowed myself to believe that happiness would not shatter in my hands once again.

Owen suddenly bolted upright in his chair and looked at the doctor with a confused and horrified expression.

“Wait, what exactly did you just say?” he asked with a voice that cracked under the sudden weight of the revelation.

I looked at him and realized that I was no longer seeing the man I had loved and trusted for the last three years of my life.

“We lost the baby because your father kicked me in the stomach,” I told him with a voice that was as cold as ice.

His face seemed to crumble for a moment and he took a hesitant step toward my bed, but he stopped himself before he could reach me.

Even in the wake of such a monumental loss, he still chose to maintain a safe and comfortable distance from my pain.