I wiped my tears, trying to hide the fact that I was hurt again, even though he couldn't see me.
"I'm on my way home."
"Okay, just checking on you. I will be home late, okay? So please don't wait for me. I am in an important meeting now. I gotta go, Elysian."
And this time, he broke my heart again.
I arrived at Moonstone Manor, my heart heavy with an unspoken ache, remembering the baby I lost a few months ago. The grand halls felt colder than usual, as if they knew what was missing. I headed toward the room where our child was meant to stay, which should have been filled with life, laughter, and warmth. But instead, it was empty—haunting in its silence. I glanced at every corner, imagining what could have been. My knees buckled under the weight of my grief, and I slumped to the floor. The tears came before I could stop them, pouring out from my deepest parts.
How can I mourn something I never had the chance to see, hold, and love?
My body, exhausted from grief, gave in, and I fell asleep there, on the cold floor of what should have been a nursery, tears still wet on my cheeks.