Lost Me Gained Regret

After what felt like an eternity of darkness, I woke up parched, but the relief that washed over me when I felt my baby still safe inside was enough to push me to sit up, reaching for a glass of water. That's when Christine burst back into the room, swiftly taking the glass from my hand.

"Let me," she insisted, her voice laced with urgency. "You stay put until Dr. Adams checks on you."

Seeing the worry etched on her face, and fearing for my baby's well-being, I reluctantly laid back down.

Christine returned with a glass of warm water, carefully adjusting the pillows behind me so I could sit up comfortably.

I couldn't help but protest, "You don't have to fuss so much; I'm not that frail."

But Christine fixed me with a stern look. "Don't pretend you're okay just for my sake. We've been friends for years; I know you better than that."

I took a sip of water, hiding the sorrow in my eyes, and changed the subject. "How's Greg?"

"Running a high fever, in the next room," she replied, curtly cutting off any response I might have had.

continued, her tone softening, "I haven't said much before because I know no words can truly share your

empty promises about moving on or

to be there for her, or else, make the hard choice now." "Don't let her suffer with you. It'll only hurt

up. You don't have to cry, but you need to express

only going to hurt you, the baby,

ready to continue her plea,

care of yourself, not

you, risking his own health.

I can't get through to you, maybe it's a sign that this baby just wasn't

silent, lost in thought. I had never imagined Grandma leaving so suddenly. I had plans

even taking care of Victor for her

with my baby on the line, I didn't have the luxury to grieve

my lip, I finally spoke,

noting my lack of strength, and wheeled me to his