“Why do you have a suitcase?” I asked.
He placed it quietly by the door. “I can’t do this anymore.”
I let out a small laugh, because the alternative was panic. “Do what, exactly?”
“The noise. The diapers. The chaos, Savannah.”
His hand gestured toward my stomach.
“And this.”
For a moment, everything fell silent. I could hear the baby kick sharply, as if protesting.
I stared at him. “That’s an interesting time to bring it up, considering she’s almost here—the baby you insisted we keep despite my age and the risks.”