“Let’s forget about this,” he said, wiping a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Let’s focus on us. Let’s go prepare something for our baby. A memorial. Something beautiful. And then… when you’re ready… we can try again. We can build the family we always wanted.”
I looked at him, marveling at his audacity. But I was tired. My body ached, my heart was hollow, and I didn’t have the energy to fight him.
So, I forced the corners of my mouth up. It felt like cracking dried clay.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, Nathan.”
He exhaled, his whole body relaxing. He kissed my forehead. “That’s my girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I locked the door and slid down against it, burying my face in my knees.
The next morning, the sun streamed through the sheer curtains, mocking the gloom in my heart. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, when my phone buzzed.
“It’s done,” my mother’s voice came through, crisp and efficient. “The immigration papers are processed. Your visa is approved. I pulled every string I had, Karylle. You have a flight booked to Zurich in three days.”
My heart skipped a beat. Three days.
“Zurich?” I breathed.