The PackageThe next morning, I woke to find Tony lying beside me, shirt off, hand behind his head, gazing at the ceiling.
Which I’d never seen him do before: he always was gone this late in the day.
He turned to smile at me. “Good morning. How do you feel?”
I took a deep breath. “I feel well.”
His face sobered. “And the child?”
Clearly he’d been lying there for hours for worry he might have harmed it. As if in reply, it moved about inside. “Seems to be well.”
Tony let out a relieved sigh.
I took his hand. “Not everything ends in disaster, my love.” As soon as the words came from my mouth, I regretted it. I lay here planning to dash his hopes of a child in what he would see as yet another catastrophe in his life. What would it do to him?
I meant to say the words in a frivolous way,
