"I want my child, David," she began, and that caught him off guard. "I want to be a mother."
Her voice didn't crack, didn't falter. But her eyes…they were cold, too cold, as if she was scared to break down if she didn't hold on to that cold facade.
David stood frozen, halfway between irritation and helplessness.
"We've talked about this," he said carefully. "There are options. We can adopt, we can—"
"Just… stop it!" she shouted and he flinched, light crossed his eyes for fleeting seconds before the storm in her calmed down just enough for her to breathe again. She sat up slowly, hugging the sheets around her like armor. Her shoulders trembled, not from weakness, but restraint.
Restraint from having to talk to this man in this manner. Restraint from not piercing a dagger into his chest right now. Restraint from playing this long, tiring game.
"Don't mention adoption to me, David," she said, quieter now. "I want my child. Not someone else's. Not a stranger's. Mine. Ours."
