In that moment, all hope inside me died.
“Lily, let’s go home, pack our things, and leave,” I said quietly.
She didn’t respond, only gave a small nod.
On the way back, I scrolled through Facebook and came across Annie’s latest post.
She had uploaded a photo of a newborn baby with a caption that read, “Welcome to the world, my little angel. So grateful to have Sam and Leo by my side.”
In the picture, Annie cradled an adorable baby in her arms, her face glowing with happiness. Sam and Leo stood beside her, their eyes filled with affection.
In the comments, both Sam and Leo had left messages.
“Annie, you’re incredible. Thank you for bringing such a beautiful baby into our lives.”
“We’ll love this child like our own.”
Seeing that, I could no longer hold back my tears.
Lily and I had both lost our children, yet here was another woman parading her joy for the world to see.
And the kind of happiness she had… it was supposed to be ours.
The grief of losing my baby spread like a poison through my chest.
When we got home, I opened the door and stepped into what used to be our cheerful, love–filled house. The moment I crossed the threshold, my heart ached.
This was once the place where I pictured a future full of hope. Now, it was just a house full of memories I didn’t want to face.
I began packing my bags silently, ready to leave this painful chapter behind.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and Sam appeared.
