The Harvest
Language: en
My husband and I had a deal. DINK. Double income, no kids. We were religious about protection. We bought condoms in bulk. Yet, there I was, staring at two pink lines. He played the part of the comforting husband, telling me to embrace fate, that maybe this child was meant to be our little miracle. Against my better judgment, I believed him. I started from scratch, learning how to be a mother. Then came the third trimester. Anxiety stole my sleep. One night, while he was passed out, I found his secret social media account. He had posted a status at 3:00 AM: Can we just go back? Back to…