Mara
I sat curled in the corner, broken.
I had tried everything. Tried to breathe through it. Tried to remind myself that I was strong. That I had endured worse. That this, too, would pass.
But I couldn’t stop the tears.
I couldn’t stop the ache.
I loved him too much. That was the problem.
Even if he said he was over her, having Tina in our home—in our wing—was too much. Too close. Too dangerous.
Old emotions didn’t need much to spark back to life, and I couldn’t watch that happen. I couldn’t sit at breakfast while she stared at him, while he was forced to acknowledge her needs—needs that involved the child growing inside her.
I wiped my face and stood.
I needed space. I needed to get out before I drowned in the weight of it all. I would go to my parents for a while. Just until I
