Mei Ling's days grew quieter, but her mind became noisier with every passing moment. The realization of her pregnancy had planted an unshakable seed of doubt and anticipation. Her small apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt like a confining box as her thoughts looped endlessly between her uncertain present and the daunting future.
Her friends had noticed her growing introspection, though Mei Ling kept the truth to herself. Emma's supportive words lingered, but Mei Ling knew the decision was hers alone to make. Every glance in the mirror and every flutter in her abdomen reminded her that time was slipping away.
One rainy afternoon, Mei Ling found herself seeking refuge in a quaint bookstore tucked away in a side street. The shop was warm and inviting, its air filled with the scent of old pages and fresh coffee from a small café corner inside.
As she browsed aimlessly, her fingers brushed against the spine of a parenting book. She hesitated, then picked it up, flipping through the pages with a mixture of curiosity and dread. The smiling mothers and cherubic babies felt both distant and comforting, a glimpse into a life she wasn't sure she could embrace.
"Expecting, huh?"
Mei Ling turned sharply, startled by the deep voice. A tall man with glasses and an easy smile stood beside her, holding a book on travel.
"Oh, no, it's not for me," she lied quickly, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf.
He chuckled, unfazed. "I get it. Looking ahead, just in case?"
Mei Ling forced a small smile and nodded, hoping the conversation would end there.
"I'm Ryan, by the way," he continued, extending a hand.
"Uh, Lian," Mei Ling replied, shaking his hand briefly.
Ryan nodded toward the café corner. "They make a great latte here. Join me? You look like you could use a break."
Surprised by his friendliness but too drained to refuse, Mei Ling found herself seated at a small table, a warm latte in her hands. Ryan talked easily about his life as a freelance photographer, his love for travel, and his recent return to the city. His stories were vibrant, full of places Mei Ling had only dreamed of visiting.
"Your turn," he said with a grin.
Mei Ling hesitated, then offered a carefully edited version of her life—a new job in the city, adjusting to a different culture, and her friends who had become her lifeline. She left out the parts that mattered most: her pregnancy, her guilt, and the shadows of her past.
Still, for the first time in weeks, she felt a spark of normalcy, a connection that didn't feel burdened by her hidden struggles.
That night, Mei Ling dreamed of her child for the first time. In her dream, a little girl with her eyes and Wei Jun's determined expression laughed as she ran through a sunlit meadow. Mei Ling chased after her, feeling an inexplicable joy she hadn't known in months.
When she woke, tears clung to her lashes. The dream had been so vivid, so real. Was it her heart trying to tell her something?
The days that followed were filled with moments of deep reflection. Mei Ling found herself drawn to children's books in stores, her hand lingering on soft baby clothes in shop windows. She began journaling, pouring her thoughts onto paper in an attempt to untangle the web of emotions that consumed her.
One evening, as she reread an entry, a thought struck her: Could I be enough for this child? Could I give them a good life, even if I have nothing else to offer but love?