This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Save Your Tears

A/N: There's a change between POVs in this chapter, I'll mention it so you guys don't get confused.

A surprising harmony seemed to manifest between Sam and me for the following weeks. There was a newfound equilibrium—an unspoken understanding that allowed us to navigate the delicate balance of coexisting for the sake of our unborn child.

Remarkably, everything proceeded with an unexpected ease. Sam maintained a respectful distance while displaying unwavering commitment by attending every prenatal appointment. She not only arrived early to pick me up but insisted on dropping me off after each visit—an act of consideration I hadn't anticipated.

Yet, there were subtler gestures, ones that hinted at a metamorphosis in her approach. A constant stream of food deliveries arrived at my doorstep, all courtesy of Sam. At first, I was baffled, until Jim divulged that Sam had been engrossed in pregnancy books and earnestly researching via Google.

"It's her way of being involved, Mon," Jim explained, a reassuring smile gracing her lips. "She's trying to understand and support you in her own way. It's quite sweet, actually."

Part of me was taken aback by this unexpected display of thoughtfulness. Perhaps, buried beneath our complicated history, lay a glimmer of genuine change in Sam—a silent evolution sparked by the imminent arrival of our child.

Despite initially feeling overwhelming, the constant food deliveries gradually became a reassuring routine. Each package conveyed an unspoken sentiment—a silent vow to stand by me, to support me through this journey, and to play a role, albeit from a respectful distance.

In these moments of unanticipated tenderness, I found myself pondering the prospect of transformation. Could Sam truly be evolving, shedding her past recklessness for the sake of our child? The thought flickered in my mind, both daunting and hopeful.

Despite my reservations, a fragment of optimism lingered—a hesitant willingness to believe that people could change, that perhaps, just perhaps, Sam was beginning to chart a different course.

In the quiet moments of reflection, amidst the growing anticipation of impending motherhood, I found solace in the gestures that, however subtle, spoke volumes about a newfound commitment and burgeoning transformation within Sam.

The rain tapped persistently against the window, creating a soft symphony that served as the backdrop to my quiet afternoon. Lost in the pages of a book, I was abruptly pulled from the narrative by the doorbell's chime. I sighed, setting the book down and making my way to the door, each step a contemplative pause.

Twisting the doorknob, I was met with Sam standing before me. An initial smile flickered on my lips.

"Oh, it's you," I greeted, a faint surprise in my tone.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Sam teased, her eyebrow raised playfully, but there was a hint of skepticism in her expression.