I Aborted Our Baby The Day He Celebrated His Mistress Birthday Chapter 07

I Aborted Our Baby The Day He Celebrated His Mistress Birthday Chapter 07

The plane touched down late. I dragged my suitcase through arrivals.

The terminal was full of people waiting – holding signs, couples folding into each other, families waving. I

walked through all of it alone.

The company contact had texted – apartment ready, key waiting at the front desk. I sent back [Got it) and flagged down a cab.

The city blurred past the window – neon streaking into ribbons of color. Nothing I recognized.

I showered, climbed into bed, and stared at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come.

Every time I closed my eyes, it all came flooding back – scene after scene, and I couldn’t stop it.

Over it completely? That would’ve been a lie. You don’t wipe out years of marriage overnight. All I could do was learn to let go a little more each day and get used to the quiet.

Since sleep wasn’t happening, I grabbed my phone and pulled up Julian’s blocked contact. Scrolled back

through our old messages, one by one.

[Julian, I’m making chicken tonight – are you coming home for dinner?]

[Weather says there’ll be storms this afternoon. Don’t forget an umbrella.]

[I don’t feel great. Think I have a fever. Can you come home early?]

[Something came up at the site. I might have to go check it out.]

[Heading out.]

Every single message was mine. Every single reply was [K].

I stared at them for a long time.

When did he stop reading them? He always had an excuse – work was busy, too many notifications, he’d do

better next time.

And I believed him. Every time. I’d tell myself I was being too needy, too demanding. That I should be more

understanding.

So I learned to need less. Learned to text less. Learned not to be a burden.

Eventually, I started to agree with him. Those little updates really weren’t worth a reply. It was just chicken.

Who cared?

A cloud really didn’t need to be shared.

It wasn’t until I was buried under that rubble that I understood – to Julian, even my life was something not

worth a reply.

I deleted the entire conversation. Then I set the phone down, lay back, and let the dark pull me under.