First Trimester
Language: en
For our anniversary, I asked Daniel to bring home some of that spicy shrimp pasta from the little Italian place downtown. The morning sickness in my first trimester was brutal, and it was the only thing I craved. But he came home late, empty-handed. Said he forgot. I didn’t say a word, but my eyes caught on a single strand of hair on his collar. It was long, brown, and definitely not mine. Later, scrolling through my phone, I saw the pasta I never got. It was on the social media page of his junior colleague, Sophie. Her caption read: “He remembered it’s my favorite. Feeling so spoiled!”