Her Pain

Forgive errors. I’m trying to get it in before midnights.

“More wine!”

Her voice carried above the chatter.

He tried to keep an eye on her, but kept losing her in the crowd. She was swinging her cup above her head and demanding the waiters bring her alcohol.

Just as he was within touching distance, she disappeared in the sea of bodies.

“More. Ficking. Wine.”

The way her voice cracked on the end of the screech had him moving through the crowd like a shot.

When he finally reached her, she was propped up against a wall near the bar.

Tears tracked down her cheeks, carrying her mascara with it. He pulled her into his arms not caring about the mess.

“Why not me?”

He held her a bit tighter.

“Why can’t I be a mother?”

He squeezed his eyes shut at her pain.

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