[ A WATTPAD FEATURED STORY ]
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❝We accept the love we think we deserve.❞
But what does that really mean?
This is Eva's story; a tale of a wayward girl who had a heart of glass and when it broke, forgot that light tends to creep in through the cr...
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“It’s probably a boy,” Vincent said, smiling. “Don’t you think, babe?”
Eva offered a tiny, shaky smile at him and her hand came to rest right on top of her stomach on instinct. There was someone in there, she realised, a life growing inside her.
It had been three days since her test results had proved positive and Eva was still waiting to wake up, to find herself back in reality. Maybe she’d find herself seated on their dining table, with Vincent’s colleague Noah Morgan seated there with them along with Millie, his wife. Maybe she’d find herself still digging into the cottage pie she’d made and realise that she’d just zoned off into space. Maybe she’d find that she never really went to bed that night, that she never woke up the next morning to book an appointment with the doctor.
Maybe she’d find that this was all some twisted dream.
She couldn’t be carrying a child— she simply couldn’t. Never had it even crossed her mind that she’d be a mother one day.
Was she even capable of being one? What was it, exactly, to be a mother? Was it to be Caroline Monroe, who taught Eva how to be the perfect woman? Or was it Maite’s mum, who sang along to songs in the car radio?
How on earth was Eva supposed to be a mother?
She couldn’t be a mother. No. No.
“I…” her voice trailed away, words getting caught in her throat, all coiling together into a painful knot and suffocating her.
“Maybe we could name him Mathew,” Vincent went on, oblivious to Eva’s pale figure. “Yes, it would fit right in with Evelyn and Vincent. Don’t you think so?”
Eva closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking in huge breaths as she tried to make sense of what was happening, as if the entire universe would just hit pause and life would wait for her to catch up.
“I don’t…” her mouth opened and closed, not knowing how to just say what she was feeling. She’d never been one for words growing up and it was all too sudden to start voicing out her emotions now.
But Vincent finally seemed to notice her distressed state and his eyebrows furrowed together as he cocked his head at her. “What is it?”
Eva opened her mouth once more, willing to try again, but words kept failing her. She just sat there, on the couch, with her lips parted and one hand resting on her belly while her other one gripped the armrest tightly.
“I don’t know if it’s…” she took in a shuddering breath, “…a good idea, Vince.”
He frowned, lips turning down harshly at the corners like he couldn’t figure out what she was trying to tell him at all. “Don’t know what?” He asked rather impatiently. “Spit it out.”
Eva swallowed, completely at a loss and having no clue as to how he would react. She didn’t want to say anything more now, not when she was unsure of what the outcome would be. But she’d already initiated this conversation and he was staring at her expectantly.
