I creep out my room, checking around the doorframe for people who might try to talk to me. The coast is clear. I make my way to my office and it's exactly how I left it the day he left.

Papers are strewn over the desk- all dated from three weeks ago. Neglected catalogues of wedding dresses are piled in the corner. My sofa that is tucked to the side is covered in handwritten notes for the big day. Pride and joy, amongst all the mess, is the dress itself.

I push myself towards the mannequin. The memories resurface- of everything that happened that night. I continue to step closer, struggling against my better judgement to run back to bed. I reach out.

The material feels smooth between my index finger and thumb, not silky but smooth. The beads adorning the bodice sparkle dully. They know the inevitability that they will never be worn by a blushing bride.

I fall back onto the sofa, paper crinkling under me. In my hand is clutched the hem of the dress. I know I shouldn't have left my room because here I am, wallowing in my own sadness. As I drift off, I hear someone unlock the flat door and shout my name. Too sad to care, too sad without Dan.

<III><III><III><III><III><III><III><III><III><III>

"Ella?" I creak open the door to her and Phil's hotel room. I'm so glad they finally got together- back when we first introduced them, Dan bet me £20 they'd start dating before Christmas. Phil managed to ask her out on Boxing day so I ended up winning! And like hell I boasted about it.

It's now three years and eight months later, Ella is pregnant with a baby Lester and both of them are utterly and truly in love. She only found out on her birthday, the 27th of March, that she was going to be a mother. I was in the next room when she took the pee-on-a-stick test.

"Is that you Leigh?" I hear her sniffle from the bathroom. Retching soon follows. I shoo Dan away so me and Ella can have some peace. It's obviously morning sickness that she's going through, normal for pregnant women. I perch on the edge of the bed and take off my sandy shoes.

"Yes it is babe, is it okay if I come in?" She hurls again before groaning a yes. I push through the door and hold her hair behind her head. Massaging the base of her neck, I comfort Ella as she continues to throw up in the toilet bowl.

"Thanks Leigh, but it won't be for much longer..." Tears threaten to spill from her eyes but are quickly blinked away. What's wrong?

"...Because I lost my baby."

She breaks down, sobbing into my shoulder as I pat the small of her back. She lost the baby. Little baby Lester will no longer be. She must be devastated to not have a life growing inside her anymore- she always wanted to be a mum since she was young.

"Are you sure? How can you be sure?" Her head pulls away from me and she uses the hem of her sleeve to dry her eyes.

"I was in the shower. I looked down to see blood washing down the drain- I checked all over my skin but there are no cuts or wounds that it could've been from. I was worried so I booked myself an exam at the nearest hospital. The results came back- that blood was the blanket protecting my baby boy inside the womb. He's dead Leigh. D. E. A. D. Dead." Her eyes are cold and dull, all the happiness sucked out by the results of one test.

"And the worst thing is that I still have to give birth to him."

As she blankly stares at the tiled wall, I cradle her, tracing circles on the backs of her hands. She's broken. She's sad.

I'm sad.