Chapter 0294

Hannah

The next day, I woke up feeling groggy and irritable. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, but it did little to improve my mood. I didn’t expect Noah to show up again. Yesterday was probably a one-time thing, a way to placate me or ease his guilt. After showering and having breakfast, I settled into the living room with a book, determined to enjoy my solitude.

But to my surprise, Noah burst through the door at precisely the same time as yesterday—a little early, in fact.

“Get ready,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “We’re going out.”

I lowered my book and stared at him, dumbfounded. “What? Where? Why?” I asked. I didn’t want to go out, especially not with him; I wanted to be left alone.

“We’re going to the nursery store,” he replied, almost exasperatedly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, hurry up and get dressed. I made an appointment.”

Begrudgingly, I got up and changed into something suitable for going out. I had no intention of building a nursery with him, but I figured it was easier to go along with it for now. Anything to keep him placated while I brainstormed how to get out of this marriage.

The drive to the store was silent, save for a pop song playing on the radio. I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets of Nightcrest pass by, and repeatedly avoided Noah’s attempts to strike up a conversation—not that there were many, thankfully.

When we arrived at the nursery store, Noah held the door open for me, an oddly gentlemanly gesture that caught me off guard.

“Thanks,” I muttered, avoiding contact as I walked past him.

Inside, the store was a pastel wonderland of cribs, changing tables, and tiny clothes. The scent of baby powder and new fabric filled the air, and I had to admit I was astonished. For the first time since realizing I was pregnant, I was finally shopping for my baby. It made it feel all the more real, all the more permanent.

Noah immediately started browsing, picking up items and showing them to me as we wandered through the store. An attendant, following us with a large cart, answered our questions.

“What do you think of this?” Noah asked, holding up a soft yellow onesie for a newborn.

I shrugged, trying to maintain my indifference, even though the butter-yellow color and the little embroidered ducks were the cutest things I’d ever seen. “It’s fine, I guess.”

To my surprise, he immediately added it to our cart. I shook my head and continued wandering through the aisles. My gaze landed on a little knit set—a sweater, pants, and hat. It was a deep maroon color, with little lilies of the valley embroidered on the sleeves of the sweater and around the brim of the hat.

I couldn’t help but smile. Pausing, I ran my fingers over the soft fabric, momentarily imagining my child—boy or girl, it didn’t matter—wearing the little set. And no sooner had I touched the fabric than Noah grabbed the set and tossed it into our cart.

“What the—” I blurted out, but Noah had already moved on, distracted by an expensive stroller.

As we continued shopping, I noticed a pattern. Anything I even glanced at, Noah added to our cart. It was infuriating and confusing. He had never been like this—shopping so mindlessly, especially for things I wanted. He’d never stopped me from shopping before, but he’d never been so…supportive.

“Noah,” I finally said, exasperated when he threw an expensive wooden toy set into our cart the second I looked at it, “you don’t have to buy everything I look at.”