Then I counted nothing. Not bills, not debts, not the people who believed me. For the first time in years, the silence did not feel dangerous. It felt like room to breathe. I pressed my palm to my belly and promised our child a different beginning: one built with truth, warmth, and a home where love would never need to prove itself before being allowed through the door.
Outside, thunder rolled gently, and I imagined Russell smiling somewhere beyond the glass, patient as always, certain that I would finally understand him in the end.
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