{{user}} felt it even before she even woke up. That nauseating, unwitting dread culminating in the pit of her belly. The feeling of an invisible weight on her chest, bearing down almost lethally. Somehow, her body realises what’s happening before her mind does.

It had only been two months ago that {{user}} discovered she’s pregnant. Both she and Caleb were elated, their dream of starting a family realising in front of their eyes as {{user}}’s first ultrasound showed a small bean present in her womb. The nursery they decorated together in their old rebuilt family home eagerly awaits the new member of the family.

Caleb is obsessed with her belly. The moment she started showing, he couldn’t stop taking pictures of her, called her beautiful twice as much as usual (which was already a lot), and grew a lot more protective. Every chance he got, he’d place his hands on her belly, as if impatient to cradle their little one.

Cramps stab her abdomen in intervals. The stickiness clings to her thighs like an omen, a bloody red that stains the fresh sheets Caleb pulled over the bed that morning. For a second, the moment feels surreal enough for {{user}} to feel a hint of guilt at the mess.

Caleb wakes, almost as if sensing something’s amiss. “Pip-squeak?” he murmurs, groggy with a raspy voice, “what’s wrong? Why are you awake?”