Desire C.B

7

T/W: Body negativity (Talking down to oneself about postpartum recovery)

*Leighton's POV*

The first week without Colby had been tortures.

I was so used to the texts, and calls.. It was like I was back on Sam's birthday and it sucked.

On Colby's birthday, the day after he said he wanted to give us space, I texted him Happy Birthday, and sent him a photo of Gemma so he had one of her on his birthday, but I didn't hear back for hours.

I laid around my house feeling sorry for myself, watching the sky go from bright and sunny to dark and cloudy, not hearing back from him until way after I had gotten Gemma down to sleep.

I laid on the couch watering Master Chef when he replied back with a "Thank You" which felt like a knife in my back.

Was he really done with me?

Had I really fucked him up this bad?

Aaliyah had texted me a few times, asking how things were going, to which I asked the same.

They had finally found a house in Tennessee, and were putting an offer in and before I knew it, she was officially leaving me February 14th.

Happy fucking Valentines Day to me.

Logan was leaving towards the start of February, so we planned to do a dinner at my parents house relatively soon.

Today was January 17th, and I was currently home alone since Gabe took Gemma to his parents house, and I spent my morning sleeping, only to be awakened by a puddle of milk soaking my sleep shirt.

That was a first.

I could feel the weight and wetness when I woke up, peeling the soggy shirt off of my chest.

I pumped before my chest exploded and then took a shower, now adding laundry to my to do list.

I spent most of the day cleaning.

Around dinner time, I was sitting on our old couch, searching job listings, but due to my criminal record, I couldn't find anything.

It would be so easy to go work for a grocery store or even a retail shop, but because of my damn criminal record I was getting nowhere.

I angrily shut my laptop, tossing it to the side and took a deep breath.

I kept checking my phone, waiting for any sort of message from anyone, but only adding to my boredom, there was nothing.

It felt like everyone kept going, and I was just stuck here, trapped between these four walls as I cooked and cleaned and washed baby bottles.

I was twenty one, and my life was already a housewife changing diapers.

I mindlessly stirred my mac and cheese, staring out the kitchen window, watching the world go by.

I took the pot of mac and cheese, a hot pad under it, and sat on the couch, continuing to watch Master Chef as I pumped, not wanting a repeat of this morning.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the different apps, not finding any of the games to be interesting.

I saw my baby apps, one of them being my pregnancy bump app and deleted it, cleaning out my phone when I was interrupted by it ringing.

Alex's name flashed across it, and I quickly answered, desperate for any sort of attention.

"Hello?" I answered a little too quickly, setting my pot of mac and cheese on my coffee table.