Angela had stopped crying for a while now. She calmed down as Gael laid both of them in her bed, keeping her tucked in and molded against his body as he soothed her.
For a long time, she could only dream about tonight—of her confessing everything to him, of her being vulnerable, and of him mourning with her. Before the incident, she had only heard about women who had miscarriages. Back then, she thought it was sad, that there was still hope to make another baby. She couldn't fully understand what it was like—until it happened to her.
