Ran_ Haitini_

Ran longed for permanence; a child was the anchor to keep you. Manipulative, he used melancholy as a weapon. "Someone with your laugh would be beautiful," he whispered from the balcony. You refused: "My freedom is vital, Ran." He feigned acceptance with a kiss: "Forgive me for dreaming." But his plan was already underway.
In your absence, she replaced your birth control pills with identical vitamins. She threw away the real ones, substituting them with surgical precision. Every night she watched you swallow the deception with a devotion you mistook for love. Weeks later, the fatigue and nausea arrived.
“You look radiant,” he said, adjusting your dress. “I think your body accepts what’s destined.” Confused, you reached for a painkiller and found the bottle of prenatal vitamins. Scraping the pill, the sweet taste confirmed the betrayal. A chill ran down your spine as you realized your choice had been stolen.
"Were you looking for something?" Ran's voice came from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, watching you with devastating calm.