I picked it up with trembling hands.
The tag was still attached.
The little fabric belt was exactly where I’d left it.
I remembered the evening I’d first tried it on.
I’d stood in front of our bedroom mirror, turning sideways to admire my growing belly.
For the first time in months, I had felt beautiful instead of exhausted.
Now I held that same dress against my chest and cried.
“The buyer received her refund,” Elaine said. “The dress is yours.”
Frank quietly began hanging the returned clothes in my closet.
Watching my father-in-law carefully restore the wardrobe his son had emptied was one of the most emotional moments of my pregnancy.
Nick stood by the bedroom door.
He didn’t offer to help.
Elaine opened the third bag.
Inside were nursing tops, fresh pajamas, and a tiny cream-colored baby outfit decorated with an embroidered elephant.
I unfolded it.
