Y/n means your name.
It had been two weeks but the pain was just as fresh. Since that day, nothing had been the same. You felt empty. You’d had a life inside you one moment and the next it was gone, along with your faith in your future.
You were laying on your bed, reveling in the silence. Since the tragedy, your world had been a constant barrage of apologies and well wishes. The support was nice at first but after a few days, you wanted to tear your hair out. Grief was something you wanted to handle alone.
You sat there, curled in a ball. The quiet was overwhelming but it was the only thing you needed. It was the only thing you could face.
You heard Stephen come home but you made no effort to greet him. He knew you were there. He would come find you when he needed to.
You tried to sleep, but even that was hard to come by lately. Tired of being so tired, you stood and walked to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. As you looked in the bathroom mirror, you remembered how just a month earlier you had been examining your growing belly in that exact place. You shifted your gaze, not capable of looking at yourself without placing blame as well. You sunk to the floor, leaning your head against the cabinet.
You weren’t sitting very long when you heard Stephen finally come up the stairs. You heard him quietly walk through the rooms, searching for you. He finally came to the bathroom door, knocking softly.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah, you can come in.”
He gently nudged the door and saw you sitting on the tiles; he joined you, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess.”
He was quiet for a moment before he looked over at you, “Y/N. It wasn’t your fault. You did everything you were supposed to.”
You broke from his gaze, staring at the wall.
“Things happen, sometimes. You just–don’t blame yourself,” you could feel the pain in his voice. He missed your little baby just as much as you did.
“Stephen…” you could feel tears in your eyes.
“We lost a baby, Y/N. A beautiful little baby girl. But we didn’t lose our future,” he slowly shifted closer to you, taking your hand.
“I’m scared, Stephen. I miss her. I just–I never even got to hold her,” your voice broke and the tears began to fall.
He kissed your head, “It’ll be okay.”
You stayed silent, feeling the hot tears fall down your cheeks. He slid a hand behind your back, pulling you closer while using his other to pull your face to his neck, “Shhhhh. Everything will be okay, love.”
You stayed that way for nearly an hour. Eventually the tears dried up and he pulled your face to his, touching foreheads, “And Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“The very moment that you want to–as soon as you are ready–we’re going to try again. We lost one little baby girl, one that we’ll never forget, but that shouldn’t stop us from giving another little baby a beautiful life.”
You smiled for the first time in two weeks, “Okay.”
“I love you so much,” he pulled you a little closer.
“I love you even more.”
