Do We Let Go?

17| Ambitions

Never give up on something that makes you smile.

I was waiting impatiently for Zach to come back from wherever he was. He'd texted me that he'll be home by dinner time and that I should order something for us.

Craving Italian food, I ordered it from a restaurant nearby, my mind fully occupied with the thoughts of the future of our baby.

Andrea and Mira left an hour ago, and my thoughts have been rampant since.

Painting their nails distracted me from the thoughts plaguing me because nail art is something I can only bear to do with perfection. It's something I love too much to not give my whole attention to.

But after they left, I kept pacing in my room, waiting for Zach. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully at night until I told him how I felt.

It was comforting to know that I wasn't in this alone, and Zach did manage to handle things related to us Co-Parenting well, thus making me very eager to talk to him.

Our food arrived twenty minutes before he did. When the door to our apartment opened, I whipped my neck in its direction to see Zach walk in. Relief flooded me as I would be able to talk to him then.

Dressed in a black t-shirt and blue jeans, his attire was simple enough, but he looked really good, and I liked to think that his charming personality added to his attractiveness.

But when I stared just a second longer, I noticed the slump in his shoulders, and how tired he looked. His walk was slow and held no energy or enthusiasm like usual. I frowned. Was something wrong?

"Hey.", I mumbled softly, so as not to startle him.

He looked at me lazily. "Hi. What's for dinner?"

I stood up, about to go into the kitchen. "I ordered Italian. I hope you like Lasagna?"

He nodded. "I'll just go get changed."

While he did so, I hurriedly set up the table, and everything so that Zach gets to just relax and eat. It's not difficult to see that he's tired, or maybe even has his mind preoccupied with something.

Looks like the conversation I wanted to have will have to wait.

Zach was quiet during dinner, which was a little weird because we always talked while eating. I decided to make small talk with him and see how it goes. "So how was your day?"

He didn't look up, which almost made me pout. "It was fine. What about you?" Monotonous answer.

"It was good. I had Mira and Andrea over and we had fun."

He wasn't interested. He just nodded, and I left him to his devices. Maybe he's just thinking about something or whatever. After dinner, Zach went straight to his room.

I was slightly concerned then. Ever since I'd moved in, he always insisted to do the dishes, and when I was persistent to do it, he demanded we do it together.

Although I did fear it was more related to the fact that he wasn't quite satisfied with my house chores than with the fact that he was simply a very nice man.

So anyway, imagine my surprise when he leaves his plate and all the other dishes on the table without a second thought.

After I cleaned up, I went back to my room to write a few pages before going to sleep. Only recently, I completed writing the Prologue of my book, and it took me about a week.

I started with the first chapter, wrote one thousand words of it, feeling quite satisfied. The thing that kept bothering me for an hour was that I couldn't find a perfect word to replace in a very important sentence,