Chapter One-Thirty-Four: Perhaps

The champagne smells lovely; I am still breastfeeding, so I cannot touch it no matter how badly my conversation with Marko makes me crave it; then again, even if it weren’t for my pregnancy, I probably wouldn’t be able to.

So far, only home-cooked food, meaning those cooked by people I trust, work for me.

Violet’s insistence on dining out leaves me eating the barest amount necessary to appease her, but progress is progress, she always insists.

At least the nightmares ended, though, with Milos’s crying for the past months… let’s just say the shortage of sleep made going back to bed after a nightmare easy, so eventually, they occurred less.

Now, all that remains is a sense of dread that creeps in when it is too quiet.

Again, progress, yet I cannot place if it is indeed progress or if I am running too fast for any contrast to find me.

The scent of lilies envelopes me as warm yet rough hands press my body.

“Alba! It has been ages!”

Lily utters in an exasperated breath.

“Have…did y