Eighteen

Belle’s POV

He hesitated but eventually answered the call. "Hey, Kamille," he said, his voice steady. "Yeah, it's been rough. Amanda's on the line too? Okay, hold on." He looked at me, his eyes filled with concern. "Belle's here. She's... not good."

My strength drained out of me, and I collapsed onto the bed, feeling utterly defeated. Ben continued talking to Amanda and Kamille, explaining everything that had been happening while I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Their voices blurred into a distant hum.

After what felt like an eternity, Ben ended the call and turned back to me. "Belle, how about we go out for a drink?" he suggested gently.

I nodded, suddenly feeling parched in my throat. "Yeah," I whispered. "I had to stop drinking for the baby... and now..." I couldn’t finish my sentence as the tears came, hot and uncontrollably.

Ben sat beside me, his arm around my shoulders. "Hey, stop crying. It'll be okay. We'll get through this." He gave me a comforting squeeze. "Why do