Michael's POV
After we arrived in Manchester, I did not travel the world. I was tired. I wanted to rest.
So, we stayed indoors for a few days, but those days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.
My belly gradually grew bigger, but it did not make me any happier, as I got more depressed by the way.
I would sit by the window, watch the clouds and the sky till the sun set.
I was counting the days, wondering why there was no word from Noah. Wondering why it was taking so long.
I wanted to know if the faith I was exercising was simply foolish. I was tired and I cried for days on end.
I wrote in the diary. Writing about my listless and painful days, writing about how much I missed him, cussing at him just to vent my frustration despite knowing it was not his fault and I had chosen this path in my own.
I was bitter.
The pregnancy made it even more unbearable as the baby caused me to remember Noah every single minute.
