Lila
The weeks slid quickly past in uneven pieces, some so quiet they left me on edge, others filled with Ronan’s unease that left me raw.
The rhythm of the village became predictable. Water at dawn, neighbors calling across lanes, children weaving between the houses in play.
Some mornings I even let myself linger outside, shawl wrapped close, to breathe in the scent of bread baking from the hearths. It smelled of ordinary life, so precious to me that it almost hurt.
My belly grew heavier, and much larger than expected. At night, when I lay still, I felt little kicks assaulting me from inside. I pressed my palm against tiny feet and whispered promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.
The villagers welcomed us in ways I didn’t expect. A basket of apples left on our step. A kind word about
