Chapter 1 - Two Pink Blankets
The first thing Elena Romano heard after giving birth was not congratulations.
It was a door slamming.
The second thing she heard was her husband’s voice.
“Two girls?”
Elena opened her eyes slowly.
The hospital room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the city beyond the windows. Rain streaked the glass. Somewhere in the hallway, a nurse pushed a cart past the door.
Beside Elena, two tiny newborns slept in matching pink blankets.
Her daughters.
Her heart swelled.
She had imagined this moment for months.
Marco would cry.
He would kiss her forehead.
He would hold their babies and whisper their names.
Instead, he stood at the foot of the bed with his jaw clenched.
“Two girls,” he repeated.
Elena swallowed.
“They're healthy.”
Marco looked at her as though she had personally disappointed him.
“I didn't ask whether they're healthy.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted a son.”
The words landed harder than any slap.
Elena stared at him.
“They're our daughters.”
Marco laughed without humor.
“Our daughters.”
He walked toward the window.
For eight years, Elena had loved this man.
She had defended him when his temper frightened her.
She had forgiven the late nights, the secret phone calls, the unexplained bruises on his knuckles.
She had even accepted that his business was something she was never allowed to ask about.
But she had never imagined he would look at his own children with disappointment.
“They'll carry your name,” she whispered.
“I needed someone to carry mine properly.”
Elena looked toward the bassinets.
One baby stirred.
Her tiny mouth opened.
A soft cry escaped.
Elena immediately reached for her.
“Shh, sweetheart.”
Marco's expression hardened.
“Don't start.”
Elena froze.
“She's hungry.”
“I said don't start.”
She stared at him.
Something inside her finally understood.
This wasn't exhaustion.
This wasn't shock.
This was hatred.
Marco picked up his coat.
“I'm leaving.”
“Marco.”
He stopped.
Elena gathered every ounce of courage she had.
“Please don't leave like this.”
He turned.
For one brief second, she thought she saw regret.
Then it vanished.
“You gave me two girls.”
His voice was cold.
“And you expect me to celebrate?”
The door closed behind him.
Elena lay there trembling.
She looked at her daughters.
One had a tiny crease between her eyebrows.
The other slept peacefully.
Elena reached out and touched both of their hands.
“You're enough,” she whispered.
Tears slid down her cheeks.
May you like
“You're more than enough.”
She didn't know that by the end of the week, those words would become the only thing keeping her alive.
