Living with Boaz began sweet.
He was tender. Protective. Proud.
But pregnancy changes everything.
As her body grew, so did his discomfort.
He’d look at her differently.
Less desire.
More irritation.
“Boaz… can you help me tie my shoes?” she asked softly one day.
He sighed loudly. “Sasa every small thing I must help you? You’re not disabled.”
His words stabbed.
She tried to smile. Pretend it didn’t hurt.
Grace started visiting more.
Laughing loudly.
Taking Boaz out at night.
He’d come home smelling of alcohol and perfume.
“Where were you?” she’d whisper.
“With friends,” he’d snap.
“At 3 a.m.?”
“Stop acting like my mother!”
The distance grew.
He stopped touching her belly.
Stopped attending clinic appointments.
Stopped being present.
And one evening…
Grace invited her over.
A “friendly” gesture.
To “talk”.
Nasieku walked in.
And saw Boaz.
In Grace’s bed.
Half-naked.
Laughing.
Alive.
Happy.
Her world burned.
“Boaz…?” she whispered, voice cracking.
He froze.
Grace smirked. “Oops.”
Everything shattered.
Pain consumed her.
Breath disappeared.
She collapsed.
The last thing she saw…
Was blood.