I was seven months pregnant when, one night, my boyfriend and I went grocery shopping.
It was supposed to be quick — bread, milk, a few things for dinner. But the moment we walked in, I could tell he was in one of his moods.
He grabbed a cart and said, “Don’t make this a marathon, okay? You take forever.”
I tried to ignore him, rubbing the small of my back. The baby’s been kicking nonstop lately.
But as soon as I picked up a pack of whole-grain buns, he rolled his eyes.
“THOSE? SERIOUSLY? YOU JUST PICK WHATEVER’S MOST EXPENSIVE. LIKE YOU THINK MY WALLET’S SOME KIND OF CHARITY!”
“Can we not do this here?” I whispered. “Please, just—”
He cut me off, loud enough for people in line to hear.
“OH, RIGHT. CAN’T UPSET THE PREGNANT PRINCESS. YOU PROBABLY PLANNED THIS WHOLE THING ANYWAY — A BABY MEANS YOU’RE SET FOR LIFE, HUH?”
My face burned. I glanced around — people were staring.
“Stop it,” I said quietly. “Not in public.”
He smirked. “Why? Embarrassed? You should be.”
I tried to put the buns back on the shelf, but my hands were shaking. They slipped, hit the floor, and burst open.
He laughed — actually laughed.
“Wow. You can’t even hold a bag of bread. HOW ARE YOU GONNA RAISE A KID?!”
Little did he know that a moment later, I’d be the one laughing. Because suddenly, he choked mid-laugh, eyes going wide, staring at something behind me.
“What?” I said, still shaking, and turned around. 
Father of my baby mocked me for picking $3 buns for dinner at the grocery store — the next moment, my future was rewritten.
I was seven months pregnant when, one night, my boyfriend and I went grocery shopping.
It was supposed to be quick — bread, milk, a few things for dinner. But the moment we walked in, I could tell he was in one of his moods.
He grabbed a cart and said, “Don’t make this a marathon, okay? You take forever.”
I tried to ignore him, rubbing the small of my back. The baby’s been kicking nonstop lately.
But as soon as I picked up a pack of whole-grain buns, he rolled his eyes.
“THOSE? SERIOUSLY? YOU JUST PICK WHATEVER’S MOST EXPENSIVE. LIKE YOU THINK MY WALLET’S SOME KIND OF CHARITY!”
“Can we not do this here?” I whispered. “Please, just—”
He cut me off, loud enough for people in line to hear.
“OH, RIGHT. CAN’T UPSET THE PREGNANT PRINCESS. YOU PROBABLY PLANNED THIS WHOLE THING ANYWAY — A BABY MEANS YOU’RE SET FOR LIFE, HUH?”
My face burned. I glanced around — people were staring.
“Stop it,” I said quietly. “Not in public.”
He smirked. “Why? Embarrassed? You should be.”
I tried to put the buns back on the shelf, but my hands were shaking. They slipped, hit the floor, and burst open.
He laughed — actually laughed.
“Wow. You can’t even hold a bag of bread. HOW ARE YOU GONNA RAISE A KID?!”
Little did he know that a moment later, I’d be the one laughing. Because suddenly, he choked mid-laugh, eyes going wide, staring at something behind me.
“What?” I said, still shaking, and turned around. Father of my baby mocked me for picking $3 buns for dinner at the grocery store — the next moment, my future was rewritten.
I was seven months pregnant when, one night, my boyfriend and I went grocery shopping.
It was supposed to be quick — bread, milk, a few things for dinner. But the moment we walked in, I could tell he was in one of his moods.
He grabbed a cart and said, “Don’t make this a marathon, okay? You take forever.”
I tried to ignore him, rubbing the small of my back. The baby’s been kicking nonstop lately.
But as soon as I picked up a pack of whole-grain buns, he rolled his eyes.
“THOSE? SERIOUSLY? YOU JUST PICK WHATEVER’S MOST EXPENSIVE. LIKE YOU THINK MY WALLET’S SOME KIND OF CHARITY!”
“Can we not do this here?” I whispered. “Please, just—”
He cut me off, loud enough for people in line to hear.
“OH, RIGHT. CAN’T UPSET THE PREGNANT PRINCESS. YOU PROBABLY PLANNED THIS WHOLE THING ANYWAY — A BABY MEANS YOU’RE SET FOR LIFE, HUH?”
My face burned. I glanced around — people were staring.
“Stop it,” I said quietly. “Not in public.”
He smirked. “Why? Embarrassed? You should be.”
I tried to put the buns back on the shelf, but my hands were shaking. They slipped, hit the floor, and burst open.
He laughed — actually laughed.
“Wow. You can’t even hold a bag of bread. HOW ARE YOU GONNA RAISE A KID?!”
Little did he know that a moment later, I’d be the one laughing. Because suddenly, he choked mid-laugh, eyes going wide, staring at something behind me.
“What?” I said, still shaking, and turned around. Father of my baby mocked me for picking $3 buns for dinner at the grocery store — the next moment, my future was rewritten.
I was seven months pregnant when, one night, my boyfriend and I went grocery shopping.
It was supposed to be quick — bread, milk, a few things for dinner. But the moment we walked in, I could tell he was in one of his moods.
He grabbed a cart and said, “Don’t make this a marathon, okay? You take forever.”
I tried to ignore him, rubbing the small of my back. The baby’s been kicking nonstop lately.
But as soon as I picked up a pack of whole-grain buns, he rolled his eyes.
“THOSE? SERIOUSLY? YOU JUST PICK WHATEVER’S MOST EXPENSIVE. LIKE YOU THINK MY WALLET’S SOME KIND OF CHARITY!”
“Can we not do this here?” I whispered. “Please, just—”
He cut me off, loud enough for people in line to hear.
“OH, RIGHT. CAN’T UPSET THE PREGNANT PRINCESS. YOU PROBABLY PLANNED THIS WHOLE THING ANYWAY — A BABY MEANS YOU’RE SET FOR LIFE, HUH?”
My face burned. I glanced around — people were staring.
“Stop it,” I said quietly. “Not in public.”
He smirked. “Why? Embarrassed? You should be.”
I tried to put the buns back on the shelf, but my hands were shaking. They slipped, hit the floor, and burst open.
He laughed — actually laughed.
“Wow. You can’t even hold a bag of bread. HOW ARE YOU GONNA RAISE A KID?!”
Little did he know that a moment later, I’d be the one laughing. Because suddenly, he choked mid-laugh, eyes going wide, staring at something behind me.
“What?” I said, still shaking, and turned around.