A sharp pain pierced my heart, and I bit my tongue lightly to distract from it.

"Zac Saunders, what should we do? I'm pregnant," I said.

He froze, seeming a bit slow to respond. "What did you say?"

I stared into his eyes and repeated myself.

Zac's pupils contracted, and he looked at my belly. "Pregnant..."

A chill ran through my body. I stared blankly at a patch of light on the floor, feeling an overwhelming sadness creeping in.

"You don't want this child, do you?" I asked.

Zac lit a cigarette and took a puff "Sammi, be reasonable. I didn’t say that.”

He looked at me through the haze of smoke, his eyes clouded and unreadable. "I hope you won't keep imposing your thoughts on me every time."

It seemed that people who had already drifted apart in a marriage tended to do this—pushing responsibility away when they felt guilty.

"But if you really want this child," I smiled at him and continued slowly, "you wouldn't be lighting up this cigarette in front of me."

This time, Zac remained silent for a long time. It wasn't until the burning ember of his cigarette singed his hand that he snapped out of it. His gaze lingered on my belly for a few seconds, then he asked me in a hoarse voice, "Sammi, do you want this child?"