𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝟒𝟐. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

I had been feeling uneasy all morning, an unsettling weight sitting in my chest. My due date wasn’t far off now, and the anticipation was building with every passing day.

I glanced to my side at Ansh, who was still fast asleep next to me. Even in his sleep, he maintained a slight distance between us, thinking he might accidentally hurt me or our baby. But that didn’t stop him from reaching out in his sleep, his arm draped protectively over me, offering comfort with his presence.

Despite the comforting weight of his arm around me, sleep refused to come. The uneasiness gnawed at me, something that I couldn’t quite place. I shifted slightly, and that was enough to rouse Ansh from his sleep.

His eyes blinked open, instantly alert, and he turned toward me, concern already etched into his features.“What happened, Angel? Are you feeling okay? Do you want to eat something?” he asked, his voice hushed and filled with the kind of tenderness that always calmed me.

But this time, the uneasiness wouldn’t subside so easily.

“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to keep the worry out of my voice but failing. “I’m not feeling good. My legs are aching, and they’re swollen again,” I added, glancing down at my feet, which were indeed puffier than usual.

I pouted, feeling helpless, vulnerable. A lump formed in my throat, and before I knew it, my eyes were filling with tears.

Ansh noticed immediately, his expression softening as he sat up straighter. “Hey, hey… nothing bad is going to happen to you or our baby,” he assured me. He placed his hand gently over mine, both of our hands resting on my belly, where I could feel the life growing inside me.

His warm palm soothed me slightly, but the tears still trickled down my cheeks. I didn’t know why I felt so afraid, but the fear was real and raw.

The room felt stuffy, and the air seemed too thick to breathe. I felt like I couldn’t get enough oxygen, and the panic began to rise. Ansh noticed the change in my breathing and quickly turned on the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow across the room. His face was etched with concern, and his eyes were searching mine, trying to understand what was going through my mind.

“Why are you crying, Angel?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the fog of my panic.

I couldn’t answer him; I didn’t even know the answer myself. I was just scared. He reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, pouring some into it before bringing it to my lips. I took a few small sips, trying to calm myself down. I glanced at the clock on the wall; it read 5 a.m.

The night had stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and sleep still seemed like an impossibility.

Ansh sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. “Breathe with me, Angel. Come on, slow breaths,” he said, guiding me through the same breathing exercises we had practiced in preparation for the baby.