Her once true love defects to Dauntless, abandoning her.
Penelope finds herself lonesome two years later. She has everything she could ask for, but nothing is fulfilling. That's until she comes across Charlie again. Old feelings are lost but somethi...
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IT wasn't fair. Losing my innocent baby wasn't fair. Having to wake up and realize he was no longer growing inside of me—it wasn't fair. Living through a couple of days with physical reminders my baby was gone. .it wasn't fair.
No one ever said losing your child would hurt this much. I was never told how sickening it would be having to deal with the heartbreak of losing my baby. It was far too painful. I could cope with the physical pain, but the emotional pain—I just didn't know what to do. How was I supposed to rightfully cope with it?
I cried so much after the second time I'd woken up, a little more calm. When no one was around, I cried more than I ever cried in my entire life. I let it all out, hoping—that maybe—it would ease my pain. But as of now, I was still struggling.
"Penny, sweetheart. ."
My heart immediately clenched, a bittersweet feeling stirring inside of me. I gripped the comforter under me, sighing softly. My eyes drifted up, glancing over towards my opened bedroom door where he stood.
"Yeah?" I croaked, my mouth dry.
"I, uh, made you lunch. You didn't eat anything this morning, so. . ." Eric drifted off.
"I had a glass of milk," I murmured, a faint smile creeping over my lips.
Eric chuckled softly, a similar smile coming across his tired face. His blue eyes shifted across my face, probably seeing how flustered I was.
"Come on, Penny," Eric began, a serious tone to his words. "I want you to eat a proper meal, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?"
"Sure," I answered softly, nodding slowly.
Eric walked over to me, gently taking my hand and helping me stand. It was strange having him treat with so much care. Whatever it could be—speaking to me or approaching me—Eric would always do with immense care. I didn't know if I should thank him every time, but it felt like I was supposed to.
But whenever I found myself close to uttering my gratitude, I remembered how the night before I lost the baby went. My mind would replay every accusation he threw my way and the things I'd said to his face. I couldn't figure out if it was resentment or guilt that stopped me from thanking him for his care in the last two days.
"Here you go," Eric murmured, setting my meal in front of me.
There was a small bowl of fried rice in the center, some mixed fruit on the right, and a glass of apple juice on the left. It smelled and looked amazing, but I could only stare at it.
"Something wrong with it?" He asked me, taking a seat to my right. "Your parents don't really have any meat product, so this is what I could make for you."
