I wake up exhausted.
Not because of the pregnancy this time, although that certainly isn't helping. My back still aches faintly when I shift too quickly and my body feels heavy in that unfamiliar way I've slowly been adjusting to over the past few months, but the deeper exhaustion sitting underneath everything else has nothing to do with physical discomfort.
It's emotional.
The kind that settles quietly into your chest after spending hours trying not to think about something and failing repeatedly anyway.
For several long seconds after opening my eyes, I just lie there staring blankly at the ceiling.
Then memory catches up immediately.
*Come back to our room tonight.*
My throat tightens before I can stop it. I close my eyes again with a quiet exhale, one arm falling across them automatically.
This is exactly why I pulled away.
