Benedito Goncalo Cruz Taylor-Pereira
I held the picture of the ultrasound with a small smile. It was not as 3D and detailed as Otto's but it was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Only four months old and had already formed so much. Everything in me regretted walking away from Bobby that day, regretted once again giving him the hardest pregnancies when he was supposed to be spoiled and loved.
As I looked around the cabin he stayed in I felt my heart swell. It was his temporary home, one could tell but it held so much more warmth that any of the mansions we had ever stayed in. A small wood burning fireplace was lit, warming up the cabin despite the cold outside. There were small rugs everywhere, ottomans that had a traditional Mexican print, lots of Native inspired pieces and even though individually none of them made sense, together they were beautiful.
