Breathing His Air Bantorus MC 1

Ava never thought the sound of her own name could feel like a slap.

It wasn't the word itself - it was how it was said. The way her mother's voice cracked when she screamed it across the living room last night. The way her friends whispered it in the school hallways when her belly started to show. The way he said it - Jacob - before walking away like the past year of late-night promises meant nothing.

She stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, the early morning light filtering through the thin curtains. The room wasn't really hers anymore. It was still painted a soft lavender from when she was twelve, back when her biggest problem was picking a dress for the winter dance. Now, the room felt smaller, colder. The crib in the corner - secondhand and chipped - seemed to swallow the space whole.

Her baby stirred, a soft whimper breaking the quiet. Ava was on her feet before she even realized it. She moved on instinct now, sleep-deprived and numb. She scooped the tiny, warm bundle into her arms, her heart tightening.

"Hey, sweet girl," she whispered. Her voice trembled more than she wanted it to. "It's okay, I'm here."

The baby quieted almost instantly, snuggling into her chest. Ava exhaled slowly, fighting back the burn in her throat. She wasn't crying again. Not today.

Her mother hadn't spoken to her all morning. Last night's fight still hung in the air. The words were etched into Ava's mind, sharp and unforgiving.

"You ruined your life. You ruined ours."

Her mom didn't even look at the baby. Ava wasn't sure which hurt more - the screaming or the silence that followed.

Jacob didn't even show up to the hospital. Not a call. Not a text. Nothing. He was supposed to love her. He was supposed to stay.