We argued about everything, we argued about nothing. When he finally decided to leave me, I couldn’t bear to see him go, and I had to drop the bombshell — that I was pregnant. He’s a good man, so he stayed, and now we shop for prams and cots. We still argue, more than ever, but he bites his tongue. Like I said, he’s a good man. But the weeks are racing by, and he won’t stop looking at my flat flat stomach.