He doesn’t speak, although his lips part once and then again. He licks them as his brow furrows and he visibly swallows then looks past me at the empty wall. Again he starts to say something but stops, clasping and unclasping his hands and trying to find some way to tell me what he’s thinking.

The worst part is that I want him to say something. I need him to give me something to hold on to him.

I’d go mad waiting to hear him tell me he’ll make this right. For him I’d fall again, I know I would. There isn’t enough strength in my body to keep me from Evan.

But he doesn’t say a word; he never does when I need him to.

It takes a long moment. Each second my heart beats, the steady sound is all I can hear. And then he turns his back to me and walks away without saying another word.

My body is freezing as I slowly turn from the hall and head toward our door. I can’t breathe, but somehow I am. I can’t manage a thought, but my mind is whirling with the image of what just happened.

The way he spoke my name like he needed me. The way his voice was laced with desperation and his eyes shined with determination, but then failure. The way his expression crumbled when he realized he lost me.

I don’t stop walking until I get back to our bedroom, barely glancing at the unmade bed and remembering the last time we shared it and everything about that night. I can still feel his lips on my neck, his hands traveling ever so slowly down my body as he whispered how much he loves me. And I believe the sentiment. No one has ever loved me like Evan, and no one else ever will.

It’s just not enough.

For me, I’d go back to him. I’d let him do what he wanted and I’d pay the price. I head into the bathroom.

I pick up the small plastic stick still hanging off the edge of the sink.

My head’s been a mess the past month. I didn’t realize I’d missed one period, let alone two.

It’s the brightest set of pink lines. I may not be the best friend I can be, or the best wife for that matter. But for my child, I’ll be the best mother I can be and that starts with saying no to the life I once lived and had with Evan.

My hand splays on my lower belly as I lean my back against the edge of the sink. I have to tell him and I will, but not yet. I need to stop loving him first. I need to move on and focus on what I can change and make better for what’s to come.