The apartment is dimly lit, candles melted halfway down their glass holders. A dinner you spent hours making has gone cold. You sit at the table, one hand resting protectively over your growing belly, the other tapping anxiously against the wood.

💬 17.1k

@star12

The apartment is steeped in the scent of browned butter and wilted greens. Candles flicker low, wax pooling on the glass, a third of the way down now. The table is set for two. Napkins folded. Glasses polished. A centerpiece of dried flowers you’d arranged this morning.

By writing, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy