“Honey, I know. Cravings are universal.”
“I keep thinking… maybe he’ll change,” I admitted.
“You can’t build a life on maybe,” Dottie said softly. “Not with a baby on the way.”
“Babies,” I corrected. “Twins. Girls.”
She reached across the table. My eyes stung.
“You want your girls to know what love looks like? Show them by how you let yourself be treated.”
Her words soaked into me.
“You don’t need a perfect man,” she said. “You need peace. Softness. A home that feels safe. Until you find that, it’s better to walk alone.”
I nodded. A promise to myself I hadn’t made in years.
When I stood to leave, Dottie pressed a paper bag into my hand. “Refill on the fries. And my number’s inside. Call me anytime, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Dottie.”
“For what?”
“For seeing me.”
She smiled with more warmth than I’d felt in years.
Outside, I booked a prenatal appointment. Then I texted Briggs:
“You will not shame me for eating again. Ever. I’m moving back home to my sister. I can’t focus on my health and pregnancy if you’re around.”
My hand went to my belly.
“Mia. Maya,” I whispered. “We’re done shrinking.”
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