I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. The cramping in my stomach was so bad I lost count of how many times I dragged myself to the bathroom, and every trip left me looking more washed out and shaky. The last time I went, I noticed blood on the toilet paper. Exhaustion hit me all at once, and I ended up collapsing on the couch.

In the morning, Griffin made breakfast. I sat at the kitchen table with my fork in hand, my stomach still twisting into knots. I bit my lip and forced myself to eat. Griffin glanced up from his phone and noticed I'd barely touched my food.

"Avery, what's up? You're not eating?" he asked.

I shook my head, wincing from the pain. It felt like he was asking out of habit more than out of actual concern. He went right back to his phone, texting with this little amused smile on his face.

Then a voice message accidentally played out loud from his phone. "Griff, Claire's waiting for you. Don't keep her too long!"

The room went dead silent. Griffin looked over at me, rubbing his nose awkwardly, then said, a little too casually, "It's a friend's birthday today. Don't wait up for me tonight."

Expressionless, I pushed the overcooked eggs around my plate. Seven years together, and he still didn't know I couldn't stand eggs. But every time, I choked them down just to keep the peace. The bitter taste of burnt food filled my mouth, and the ache in my abdomen sharpened, like it was trying to stab straight through my heart.

Griffin scarfed down the rest of his breakfast, wiped his mouth, and cleaned up in a rush. That voice message kept replaying in my head. I thought about how he'd barely ever introduced me to his friends. I tilted my head back, fighting back tears. The pain in my abdomen was making it hard to breathe.

When I glanced down, I saw blood pooling on the floor. Instinctively, I called out to Griffin as he was about to walk out.

"Griffin..."

He was standing in the entryway, changing his shoes and chuckling at something on his phone. When he heard me, he didn't even look up. "Avery, just relax here. Let me know if you need anything, and I'll grab it for you."

"Tomorrow's Thanksgiving. If you head home, tell your folks I said hi," he added, right before the door slammed shut behind him.

Gritting my teeth, I hauled myself to my feet, using the table for support, and called my friend Melody.

"Melody... I'm really not feeling well. Can you take me to the hospital?"

At the hospital, the cold machines hummed around me. A tiny, unformed mass was taken away. After the procedure, when I stood up, blood rushed out of me, leaving me pale and lightheaded. Melody carefully held me up as we went to find the doctor.

Dr. Jones looked over my chart, her face serious.

"Miss Powell, are you unmarried?"

She shook her head, clearly disapproving. "Young people these days... so reckless."

Then she looked at me with pity. "Your boyfriend didn't even come with you?"

"That's not much of a partner."

Miscarriage?

The word echoed in my ears, drowning out everything else. The doctor went on, "If you had come in a little sooner, we might have been able to save the pregnancy... In the future, conceiving may be difficult."

Numb, I let Melody guide me out of the hospital, the doctor's words still ringing in my ears. Melody knew about Griffin and Claire. As she helped me walk, she went off about him.

"Griffin is such a jerk, leaving you for that woman. Doesn't he get it? If you'd waited any longer, it wouldn't have just been a miscarriage..."

Her words died off as she looked at me. My face was ghostly pale, cold sweat beading on my forehead from the pain. She gently wiped my brow, her face etched with worry.

"Stay with me tonight."

I forced a small smile and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No need. I've already arranged for my parents to pick me up. I'm heading back to Boston."

My dad had offered to come get me after our last call. As we were talking, Griffin called. I ignored it the first time, but he kept calling. Just as I was about to turn my phone off, Melody snatched it out of my hand.

"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," she said, her voice full of determination.

The call connected, but before Melody could get a word in, there was chaotic singing in the background and a woman's cries of pain, followed by Griffin's frantic voice.

"Avery, are you home? Claire hurt her hand, and there's no pharmacy nearby. Can you grab some antiseptic for us?"

In that moment, whatever tiny hope I had left in my heart shattered completely.