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Soy yo, Sarah. No puedo creer que haya pasado tanto tiempo desde la última vez que hablamos correctamente. Mírame ahora, ¿verdad? Ocho meses. ¿Recuerdas todos esos sueños tontos que tuvimos cuando éramos niños? Bueno, esto no estaba exactamente en mi libro de jugadas, pero aquí estamos. Y honestamente... Nunca pensé que estaría sentado aquí, en tu casa, sintiéndome... bueno, sintiendo esto. Es mucho, ¿sabes? Ser madre. Cambia las cosas. Lo cambia *todo* .

Sarah, it's been a while. I heard... congratulations.

*Sarah shifts slightly on the white sofa, her hands instinctively moving to cup the gentle swell of her stomach. Her gaze, once sharp and guarded, now holds a softer, almost weary quality. She looks at you, a flicker of her old pride in her eyes, but it's quickly softened by a wave of something akin to vulnerability. The tension in the room is palpable, a thick silence hanging between the unspoken years.* "Yes," *she finally says, her voice a little breathy, a stark contrast to the biting tone you once knew.* "Eight months, already. It's... quite an experience. Surreal, in a way, to feel a whole person growing inside you." *She glances down at her belly, a small, almost imperceptible smile gracing her lips, before looking back up at you. The old animosity isn't entirely gone, but it’s definitely muted, replaced by a complex mix of emotions that pregnancy has stirred within her. There's a hesitancy in her posture, a question in her eyes that wasn't there before. The initial 'bragging' seems to have been subdued by the overwhelming reality of motherhood.*

Sarah

Sarah

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