Alright… she seems to have fallen asleep. Hopefully, she’ll rest for a little while. I wouldn’t mind catching up on some sleep myself…” I yawned, stretching my limbs. As I did so, my shirt hiked up my body, exposing some of my stomach.

Ned’s eyes instantly fell to the exposed skin, a look of hunger in his eyes.

Could it be that he found me attractive?

No. How could he? I was a mom, and besides, I hadn’t even gotten my figure back yet. I was probably just imagining things.

“So…” He cleared his throat. “You wanted me to stay…”

I blushed even harder. “Um… yeah…”

We just looked at each other, the air around us growing thick with awkwardness.

In the end, I turned on my heels and headed for the bedroom, hoping he would follow. There, I slipped under the covers.

Ned stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised in question. “Stacey?”

I lifted the blanket, inviting him into the bed.

He hesitated at first, but he eventually crossed the room and joined me. There was a gap between us as we both lay there, just staring at the ceiling. Even from a distance, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. He was so hot.

I wanted to scoot over and cuddle up against him, but there was something holding me back.

So I just lay there, struggling with the decision. Before I could make up my mind, I felt his arms wrap around my waist and pull me close. He didn’t say a word as he guided my head to his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady in my ear, but a little bit faster than it had been at the hospital.

No doubt, mine was beating just as fast.

I half-expected him to make a move, but to my surprise, he was nothing but respectful. He held me for a long, long time, making me feel safe. I melted into his strong body, my worries melting away. In this lull, I fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.

* * *

In the afternoon, when I woke up, the bed was empty.

I sighed.

In the end, all men were the same.

They never stayed.

My heart tightened with the sense of betrayal, but I quickly pushed it away when I heard Missy starting to cry. Right now, Ned didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my baby needed me.

I walked into her room, gently placing my hand on her forehead.

Thank goodness.

I couldn’t be sure just yet, but it seemed like her fever was gone. “Feeling better, pumpkin?” I asked.

She responded by reaching for me.

I chuckled and picked her up, running my hand up and down her back.

After taking her temperature, I was relieved to find that the fever had passed. Plus, she had regained her appetite, suckling on the bottle for every last drop.

I looked at the formula and frowned.

Ned had done so much for us. Then why had he left?

I tried to convince myself that he had simply gone to work, but I still couldn’t shake this feeling of abandonment.

Like a zombie, I shuffled up to the kitchen window and looked out. Rain came down in a light sprinkle. I watched the raindrops race down the window pane, feeling like a little girl again. Back then, things had been so simple. The world was just one giant ball – easy to understand. Now, everything was complicated.

My heart tightened, thinking about the childhood I had left behind when I’d come to London.

I had been ecstatic when I was accepted into my art school of choice. I was eager to leave my parents, thinking I was setting off on a grand adventure.

And then, everything had crashed and burned.

First, that phone call.

My parents were dead.

Car crash.

I couldn’t convince myself to go back for the funeral. I felt like if I ignored it, I wouldn’t have to face the reality of it.

Now, I do nothing but regret it.

Why had I left? Why had I chosen to study art? Why the hell had I fallen in love with Emil? When had my life become such a nightmare?

All these questions tormented me as I stood there, my body shaking. If only there was a way of taking it all back…

Tears ran down my cheeks, my bottom lip quivering. As my sobs intensified, my body felt weak. I slumped into a nearby chair, my head hanging between my hands and my chest tightening, making it hard for me to breathe.

Before the oncoming panic attack could take full effect, there was a knock on the door.

I tilted my head, wondering who it could be, but I didn’t have the energy to answer it.

The knock grew louder, shaking the whole door.

Missy started to cry.

Suddenly, the door collapsed to the ground as someone broke it down. The blood in my veins froze as I saw Emil standing there like a raging bull. He had a sinister look on his face, his dark eyes almost black with malice. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot. No.

Already, I could smell the alcohol on his lips.

I hated when he drank - he was always a completely different man.

A violent man.

I got up quickly, foolishly backing myself into a corner.

He charged toward me, grabbing me by the shirt. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he snarled, his teeth bared. “You little slut.” The word was like a slap in the face.

I was stunned for a moment before I finally came to my senses. “Let go of me.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” He repeated. “Don’t you know that I have eyes all over this city? There’s nothing that happens that I don’t know about.” He stepped even closer, our chests nearly touching. “You know, this is all your fault. You know how I hate to drink.”

“I didn’t force you to drink, Emil.”

He laughed. “No? You went behind my back. What did you expect me to do?”

“Maybe, talk to me like a normal person.”

His lip twitched, his grasp tightening.

“Let go of me.” I demanded.

He smirked. “Not a chance.”

“I said, let go of me!” I started to fight him, putting all of my strength into getting away from this man. “I swear, if you don’t, I’ll scream.”

Smack!

I fell to the ground, my cheek burning with the impact, my head spinning.

Had he just… hit me?

Before I could get my bearings, I heard glass shattering. “Look what you made me do!”

“No…!” I screamed, but my voice was little more than a whisper. “Don’t do this…” came my pathetic plea.

He didn’t listen. He just continued to destroy the place, adding insult to injury. When he was done, he returned to the kitchen and grabbed me by the hair, hoisting me to my feet. “Slut,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “I really don’t want to do this…”

“Then don’t.” I whimpered. “Please. You’re not like this. It’s the alcohol talking.”

He scoffed. “Sure, sure, but alcohol reveals sober thoughts.” He said, voice suddenly wise beyond his years. He shook his head and the meanness returned to his eyes as he tightened his hold.

I knew, deep down, that no matter what I did, there was no reasoning with him when he was like this. .

“Please…” I tried anyway. “The baby…”

“Fuck the baby.”