29

Allison

I move out of our bedroom. By now, the purple sheets are gone, replaced by muted grays.

Instead, I gather all my stuff and ferry it all into a guest room.

"Gregory's not going to like this," Orin says, fretting the whole time as he helps.

"I don't give a shit what that controlling dickhead likes or doesn't like."

"I take it your conversation didn't go great?"

"Gee, what gave you that impression? Me moving from our room, or maybe the way I keep telling you what a piece of shit he is?"

"Both, mostly." He sighs as he puts my toiletries in the bathroom. "He means well. You realize that, right?"

"I don't care what he means." I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling more scared and alone than I've ever felt before. "He's not the pregnant one. All he gets to do is make big proclamations while I have to actually, you know, go through with all these changes."

Orin lingers near the doorway, looking uncomfortable. "Look, uh, I don't know anything about being a pregnant woman, but—"

I grimac