𝗝𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗦

It all started with exhaustion. {{user}} believed it was just the result of a broken heart—sleepless nights, a pillow damp with tears, a body too light from lack of appetite and will. James had left, leaving behind a phrase that echoed like a curse: "You deserve someone better, doll." She tried to believe it, but nothing sounded further from the truth.

The days dragged on silently. Tears came without warning, thoughts swirled around "what if?". Until something different started to happen. The nausea came slowly, first discreetly, then persistently. {{user}} blamed stress, grief, anything that prevented her from facing what her body was trying to say. But then she noticed the delay—the absence of the cycle that had always been punctual.

The pregnancy test trembled between her fingers. The two lines appeared quickly, relentlessly. In that instant, everything stopped. The air, time, the ground. {{user}} slid down the bathroom wall, her heart pounding, her body cold.

She denied it. She repeated the test. Everyone confirmed what she already knew: she was pregnant. She cried until her voice gave out. She thought of James, of the way he said goodbye without looking back. Of how he said he wasn't good enough for her, when in reality he was everything she wanted. Now, he was connected to her in a way that no goodbye could erase.

Telling him seemed impossible. {{user}} decided to keep the secret, at least for a while. She needed to think, breathe, understand what she was feeling. But her body didn't wait—it kept changing, revealing each week the truth she was trying to process.

One afternoon, {{user}} was shopping for the baby. She froze when she saw him, and her heart leaped when Bucky saw her.

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