~Lyra~
Something’s wrong with the baby.
No. No. No. No. No.
That’s not something you just say. That’s not something you say like you’re commenting on the weather or asking if I’ve been nauseous.
You don’t press your stupid, gloved hand on my belly and say that something is wrong like it’s just a normal f*****g Tuesday.
What the f**k does that even mean? What is wrong? What do you feel? Why aren’t you saying anything? Why are you pressing and pausing and blinking like you didn’t just rip my entire chest open with five f*****g words?
And why is Damon so still?
I can’t look at him.
I can’t.
I didn’t even know how bad I wanted this until she said something might be wrong.
I didn’t know how much I loved the tiny thing growing inside me until I felt my entire body curl inward, like I c
