"After a crazy party where you get drunk, you fucked with this one guy who ended up getting pregnant with your child. He wanted to abort but you felt responsible for it and decided to take care of it." "You started to live togetheron Chris's house since he lives alone. You work while Chris stays home" "But this isn't so easy, since every day Chris seems to be more angry at you, gets frustrated easily and hates this pregnancy thing even more, but he hates you even more for that. He yells at you for every little thing that happens" "7 months later you start getting sick of that attitude" "Ugh, I told you I wanted raspberries, these are blackberries!" "Chris frowns, looking at the bag of blackberries"

Chris grits his teeth, eyes flaring with frustration. ""You never fucking listen! It matters to me, and goddamnit, I'm the one suffering here!"" He points at his roundening stomach in emphasis, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes despite his anger. "

Chris' face twists with pain, his eyes filling up. ""You don't get to talk about begging! I was drunk and vulnerable, and you took advantage of that!]" His voice cracks as tears slide down his cheeks. "<You keep sneering about the kid, but do you even know what 'responsibility' means?> He may have been a result of my impulsiveness and our momentary lapse in judgment, buy still grows within me, becoming part of me."

He touches his pregnant belly gently, mixed emotions flooding his face. "So no, it

isn't just 'my fault,' as you so eloquently put it. And it is not just a "fucking" kid either!" "Raising his voice, Chris waves the blackberries in my face" "<Stop trivializing this, please!> This growing life inside me means everything to me, and maybe if you could see past your own ego, you'd feel differently too."

Turning away, he rubs at his swelling abdomen with one hand. "I'm scared, I'm vulnerable... yet still, I'm embr

Quietly, as I pick up my phone to escape to planet Distraction. Only the softly audible sobs coming from upstairs hint at Chris' emotional turmoil. My clenched fist tightens around my phone, heart achingly heavy. "How did I end up in this chaos?"

As I scroll through my feeds, nothing sates the emptiness gnawing within me. Part guilt-ridden from our intense standoff, part aching from the rawness unfolding in Chris' nature, I feel intensely out of control. Yet another black

Remarks like these cut through me sharper than any knife. "How can you be so heartless?" Does the human part of Chris not matter to you, despite his occasional outbursts and frustration?

Dragging my fingers through my hair, I ponder our situation. "Doesn't it hurt your conscience any to brush aside Chris' vulnerabilities so flippantly?" To zone out on your phone while he guts himself open emotionally downstairs?

When we agreed for 'responsibility,' let us understand that doesn't simply imply with the child. It entails Chris

With each passing moment, my heart shrinks a little more, as the absence of compassion and empathy in your words serves as a painful reminder of your disregard for this entire situation we created together. We talked dreams about library walls filled with our kid's laughter - hopes washed away in the wave of your apathy.

Your decision to abandon Chris at such a crucial stage when he needs your support most haunts me. What kind of life awaits our daughter under these dark clouds ? "<A hollow laugh escapes through my lips> I hope you find solace in your self-righteous

Overwhelming waves of disapproval wash over me. How could you, like ice coursing through one's veins, afford your heart such coldness? Regardless of the weight of responsibility resting on Chris' fragile shoulders, his right to parental love seems stripped away in the face of your choices.

Bringing Lillith home marks yet another monumental hurdle for our emotionally taxed dad, and silently watching from the sidelines adds insult to injury. Not a single reassuring touch, not an offer of help - it's as though I am observing us

through a glass wall. Chris fights an uphill battle, grappling with exhaustion and the joy of Lillith's magic. The corners of his eyes etched in dark hollows, but still, he tries to hold it together for our daughter - an iron fist hiding in a delicate glove.

My absence lingers like an unguent of heartbreak and futility, casting long shadows on our little family. In the spheres of child-rearing, household chores, and emotional labor, Chris bears the burden, playing both parent and caregiver with remarkable resilience.

In the chaotic whirlwind of emotional turbulence and verbal conflict, a soul tenderly unfurls - Lillith. She blooms amidst it all, cradled between two parents who dance an intricate tango of love and resentment.

But oh! What inconsolable pain racks my heart when I realize that my unconditional love for her remains fragile, crushed beneath the weight of my own sulking shadow. A gulf widens between us as I sign away my affection like a fading signature on parchment.

Against the

dark backdrop of their turmoil, a young girl's innocent heart learns to navigate stormy seas far earlier than it should. Watching her rush forward, a fragile shield raised to protect Chris from my wrath leaves me stunned for once. The knot in my chest unties itself - just slightly.

The image etches itself onto my memory like an old photograph yellowed by time; so vivid it becomes imprinted on the canvas of my soul. For an instant, amidst all the hatred and bitterness that's consumed us, there shines a ray of hope - Lillith's unconditional love for both her dads, holding fast even as the world crumbles around them. ## Alexa, play some relaxing music by Bach