In this vast, indifferent city, we had slept in a cramped basement, surviving on instant noodles and steamed buns. At our poorest, we couldn't even afford a single sanitary pad.
On the coldest nights, we curled up together in one bed, wearing every piece of clothing we owned, shivering beneath a threadbare blanket.
I had cried back then, too.
I kept telling myself to let go, that if we clung to this life any longer, Charles, whose health was already fragile, would only wither further.
"Charles, let's stop this. Let's get a divorce. Go back and admit your mistake. If you go now, you might even get a warm bowl of chicken soup waiting for you."
He held me tighter, tucking my hands deeper into his clothes, pressing my frozen feet against his body as if trying to shield me from the world itself. His voice trembled between fear and determination.
"No, I won't divorce you. Natalie, I won't say I was wrong because I wasn't. I'm sorry… The vasectomy hurt, but I couldn't bear to see you suffer. And yet… I still made you suffer."
Bitterness spread across my tongue, the taste no different from the tears that blurred my vision. The past and present bled together, indistinguishable.
"Charles, let's leave, okay?"
"You love children. We can have one of our own, okay?"
"Why? Why didn't you tell me when you wanted a child?"
A heavy silence settled between us, thick and suffocating. It crashed over me like a wave, dragging me back to reality.
Slowly, mechanically, I turned to look at Charles.
As I followed the hesitation flickering across his face, I realized he hadn't come back alone.
This was my first time meeting Eleanor.
Just like in the videos Leah had posted, she was young, poised, and exuded a soft maternal warmth, graceful in a way that made it impossible to look away.
And I turned toward the mirror by the window. My swollen, red-rimmed eyes stared back, puffy like walnuts, the wrinkles at the corners deepened by days of relentless tears. I looked utterly miserable.
Something unfamiliar twisted inside me.
Eleanor's gaze lingered on the very spot where Charles had been warming my hands. The pain in her eyes didn't seem feigned, yet she forced a smile as she gently nudged the child beside her forward.
Charles, visibly shaken by her sadness, didn't hesitate. His hand slipped from mine, and without a second thought, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.