Ryan stirred. I felt the mattress tighten beneath him, the way it does when someone’s muscles have gone rigid with irritation.
« Please, » I whispered to no one. « Please, just let me sleep. »
He didn’t hear me. Or, if he did, he didn’t answer.
I closed my eyes and counted the baby’s kicks, one, two, three, and told myself that later in the day things would feel less sharp. I told myself Ryan was tired, I was tired, and we’d find our way back.
« Please, just let me sleep. »
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
