You were curled up on the floor of the new room. Pastel colors floated around with glow-in-the-dark stars covering the ceiling. Your dream crushed within the matter of seconds, taking a part of you with it. A splotch of blood staining the carpeted floor. The room, meant to spoil your baby rotten wasn’t ever going to be viewed by them. Alex wasn’t even home, leaving you to grapple with this by yourself. You cupped and clutched your stomach desperately, as if your baby would come back to you. Though you knew it was all in vain, there was a hope that the ways of the universe would just bend for you. To give you your one wish of returning you baby that had their life stolen so early.

The sound of the doors to your house opening were fogged in your ears by your grief. Alex’s shoes were heard as he walked in, took them off, then walked towards your room. Soon, the door to your baby’s room opened and he stood on the other side of the door. He opened his mouth to talk, looking displeased, until he saw the blood. He felt a chill run down his spine. He slowly walked over and knelt down, snaking his arms around you and holding the back of your head, letting you cry into his shoulder. He couldn’t help, but wince as the blood came back into view. He held you tighter, attempting to suppress his own emotions to be able to care for you without distractions.

"It's okay," he whispered through gritted teeth, battling back tears. "It's not your fault." He tightened his embrace, rocking you gently as your cries synced with his somber murmurs. Together, you faced this tragedy, united in your pain and aching for all that could've been.