That night, Luther lay beside her while gently massaging her stomach.
“Honey, I’ve delegated all my work for the next two days. Your first couple of days on your period are always the worst, and I can’t leave you alone.”
Callista gave a nonchalant response, not taking his words to heart.
Then, a notification sound woke her up in the middle of the night.
“Sorry, did I wake you? There’s some work I need to take care of. I’ll put my phone on silent. Go back to sleep, honey,” Luther said softly.
Callista kept her eyes closed, but she was no longer sleepy.
Luther’s left hand continued massaging her stomach, while his right hand was free to reply to messages. The warmth of his touch and the occasional low chuckles he couldn’t suppress felt like a dull blade cutting into her, one stroke at a time.
“Honey?” he whispered, testing the waters.
As he hoped, Callista didn’t respond.
Luther withdrew his hand, quietly got out of bed, and tiptoed out of the room. Even as he moved silently, his eagerness was palpable.
“How dare you send those kinds of pictures over? Just wait—I’ll make sure you can’t get out of bed tomorrow,” he muttered before the door clicked shut.
Moments later, Callista’s phone buzzed several times. It was a message from Wren.
“Are you getting old and unattractive, Cally? Luther’s been so pent up that he couldn’t get enough of me this afternoon.
“He even said he wanted to try something new with me tonight. Can you believe it? He has no consideration for this poor pregnant woman.
“Honestly, I feel bad for you. Luther did plenty of the work to make me pregnant. Meanwhile, you’re stuck with sterile IVF procedures, and you still can’t conceive.”
Even in the bedroom that was warmed by the heater, Callista felt frozen to the core.
She got up, retrieved a hot water bottle, and climbed back into bed.
For five years, she’d believed she had met Luther too late in life and that their time together would be too short.
But now, with only five days left, she found the time to be unbearably long.
