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“Honey,” he said. “I just wantyouback. OK?” I nodded my head. “Come here,” he murmured, opening his arms and letting me crawl into them.
Why did his touch no longer comfort me like it used to?
His hand ran through my hair as we stood there — two separate beings sharing a life.
“It wouldn’t be shameful to take medication,” Sean said eventually. “No one need know.”
“I wouldn’t be ashamed.”
“Good.” I felt his stubble scratch my forehead as he nodded. “We wouldn’t have to tell our friends.”
I said nothing.
“It’s private. No one needs to know,” he said.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
“And when you get pregnant, we’ll just get my mother to come and stay. Take the pressure off you.”
“Why would I need your mother to come and stay?”
“Kylee,” he said, voice full of compassion. “You’re a mess, sweetheart. If this is the way you are now, imagine how depressed you’ll be postpartum? You just have to face facts, Ky, your mind is susceptible to melancholy. There’s no way you’ll be able to manage on your own with a newborn child.”
I let him hold me when I felt nothing steal into my soul.
I let him hold me when I felt nothing cleave my heart in two.
I let him hold me when nothing rose like waves above my head and drowned me.
