Chapter 49: The Milk, the Photograph, and the Night

That night, Anna’s small room was lit only by the warm gold of her desk lamp, its soft glow spilling over the folds of the white curtain. A light night breeze slipped through the crack in the window, carrying a hint of chill and the familiar fragrance of flowers from the garden.

She sat before her half-open wardrobe, fingers gently sifting through its depths. When her fingertips brushed against the cold corner of a wooden frame, she slowly drew out a photograph, its colors slightly faded. In it, Mrs. Tracy smiled with a tenderness Anna had memorized since childhood.

Anna sat down on the edge of the bed, running her fingertips lightly across the surface, brushing away the thin layer of dust. The first tear fell, smudging a small corner of the photo.

“Mom…” — her voice trembled — “Today… Leon proposed to me. I… I’m truly happy now, so you don’t have to worry… alright?”

She pressed the photo to her chest, as if holding on to the warmth of an embrace long past.

Suddenly, the hinges creaked softly. The bedroom door eased open, revealing Leon stepping inside, a cup of warm milk in hand, steam curling above the rim. His gaze froze when he saw the shimmering trails of tears on her cheeks.

“Anna…” — Leon crossed the room in quick strides, set the cup on the table, and sat beside her — “Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

She shook her head, leaning into his shoulder. “No… it’s just… I missed my mom today.”

His arm tightened around her, a warm hand brushing her cheek to wipe away the remaining tears. His eyes softened as they fell on the photo.

“Your mother… was a good woman. She loved you very much.”

Anna nodded faintly, her eyes still rimmed with red.

Leon smiled gently and continued, “I believe she’s in heaven now, and she only wants you to be happy. So… promise me you’ll always be happy, alright?”

“You’re right,” Anna whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’ll live happily… with you and our child.”

Her hand came to rest on her belly, now rounded beneath her nightdress. Leon’s gaze softened instantly, as if the sky itself had settled into his eyes. He reached for the milk, offering it to her.

“Here, drink.”

“I… don’t want to,” she murmured, lips pressed together. “Since I got pregnant… I’ve gained so much weight. I feel ugly.”

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he held the cup closer. “In my eyes… you’ve always been the most beautiful. There’s no ‘ugly’ here. Only the mother of my child… who needs milk to stay healthy.”

Under that steady gaze, Anna accepted the cup. He stayed there, rubbing her back, murmuring aimless words until only a few drops remained at the bottom.

That morning, sunlight slipped through the curtains in a pale, hesitant streak, as if afraid to disturb the quiet. Leon had left for work while Anna was still lost in dreams, but today, she couldn’t fall back asleep.

Her body felt heavy, every joint pulled down by some invisible weight. She shifted, searching for comfort, but fatigue seeped into her bones, making her eyelids rebel against her will.

Finally, gathering her strength, Anna pushed herself upright. As her feet touched the floor, she bent down to find her slippers… and her gaze caught on something unfamiliar: a small glass bottle, its label reading clearly, “Sleeping Pills – Sedatives.”

She froze. She had never used such a thing. In this house, apart from her and Leon, no one else ever entered the bedroom. With just a moment’s thought, the answer became clear: they belonged to Leon.

By late afternoon, the living room was steeped in the scent of oakwood and the glow of golden lamplight. Anna sat on the sofa, gently stroking her belly, her eyes fixed on the door out of habit.

The sound of a key turning broke the stillness. Leon stepped inside, the weariness etched into his stride fading the moment he saw her. His lips curved slightly, his eyes brightened. He sat beside her, his arm wrapping around her waist, warm palm resting tenderly on her belly.

Anna studied his face, a flicker of sorrow in her gaze. She reached up to touch his cheek, her voice low.

— “Leon… you’ve been working so hard lately, haven’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly.

— “Why do you think that?”

— “I found… a bottle of sleeping pills in the bedroom.” Her voice dropped, hesitant. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Leon didn’t deny it, only exhaled softly.

— “I’ve been taking them for a long time.”

Anna blinked.

— “A long time… how long?”

His eyes darkened, his voice slowing as if unlocking a memory long kept behind a closed door.

— “Since the day I watched my mother… being murdered. From that night on, I’ve been haunted every time I close my eyes. Without the pills… I can barely sleep.”

Anna’s chest tightened painfully. She took his hand — the one still resting on her belly — and squeezed. His palm was cooler than usual, yet seemed to warm under her touch.

Leon’s gaze locked on hers, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound steady.

— “But… since you came into my life, I’ve slept more easily. The nightmares don’t come as often.”

He leaned forward, gathering her into his arms. The embrace wasn’t just love — it was a lifeline, clinging to a fragile peace. His chest pressed against her cheek, his heartbeat pounding faster and heavier than normal, as if terrified of losing something irreplaceable.

— “Don’t leave me, Anna… if you go, I’ll… fall apart.” His voice broke at the end, the strong shoulders beneath her hands shivering.

Anna’s arms circled his back, her fingers tracing the tense lines of his muscles. She felt the warmth and uneven rhythm of his breath against her hair.

— “I’ll always be here… to love you. Leon… I love you.”

He held her tighter, as though etching her form deep into his bones. His familiar scent wrapped around her, a bittersweet comfort. In that moment, beyond the sound of their hearts beating in unison, the world seemed to step back — leaving only the two of them, bound by a wordless promise carved to last a lifetime.