𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐋 {𝟏𝟖+}

LXXI

I apologize for the super late update and for disappearing, but uni started and it straight up swept me off my feet with the sheer amount of work our professors dumped on us. Thank you for your patience, I love you 🤍

Hope you'll enjoy the chapter, it was extremely hard to write and I'm still unsure of it. As I've mentioned some chapters ago, these final chapters are ones I ideated nearly 2 years ago when I started the book, and writing something that matches what I've been imagining for so much time is very challenging

Perhaps I was a bad person. Perhaps my jealousy and envy were exaggerated, and definitely out of place, but I couldn't magically turn them off by pressing a button. Days, for days I had attempted to mask my true emotions with a hopefully bright enough smile and nice words, until I had eventually reached my breaking point the previous night after the big event, crawling into bed whilst feeling like utter crap and crying, sobbing, all of my repressed feelings flowing out of my eyes and dripping down onto my pillow, dampening it with my sorrow, in a temporary reminder that she had gotten the one thing I desired the most.

My little sister had given birth to her second child, a beautiful baby girl her and her husband had named Margaret, Maggie for short, and she had asked me to be by her side during the 2 weeks that had led to the actual birth, wanting her big sister with her as she experienced the joy of childbirth for the second time, completely unaware of my internal suffering; I'd thought that I was going to be able to to handle it, but just the sight of her, pregnant and excited, had filled me with an immense amount of jealousy, which I'd managed to contain until I'd seen her holding her newborn.

After an ugly reaction I'd had in the privacy of the guest room I slept in, I had managed to fabricate an excuse and leave the ecstatic couple, apologizing profusely out of shame and guilt, and promising my sister that I was going to visit her often. Now, in the safety of my car, I was free to express all of the emotions that I had bottled up during my stay, something I did by crying and yelling at whoever was listening to me in my solitary car.

I wanted another child. It had been months ever since I'd brought it up to my husband and, despite him thinking that it had only been a momentary, insignificant and forgettable whim, I still wanted it more than anything, so I was set on sitting him down and talking to him about it until he was eventually going to give in and make me, his wife, happy.
My desire to have a baby burned so strong that I had even considered, back in May, secretly getting my IUD removed in order to accidentally get pregnant, but I'd dropped the idea after examining it with a clearer head and realizing how messed up that was. However, it hadn't stopped invading my thoughts, and I still found it to be a viable yet unconventional way to get what I wanted; though, before resorting to that, I needed to use every trick up my sleeve to convince Lorenzo to simply have another baby already.

The entire situation was extremely frustrating, since it was partly my fault. After my miscarriage, I'd been opposed to the idea of having another child, mainly because I'd spiraled into a dark depression that had led me to believe that I wasn't woman enough to successfully carry another pregnancy to term, and once I'd finally gotten out of that, the thought had slipped my mind and he had never brought it up again, fearing a bad reaction or simply not caring about another kid. His motivations hadn't mattered anymore: we both had been too focused on Richard anyway, and it had been easy not to feel the need for a second child with my son being little and attracting all of my attention.