It’s almost like a ritual at every family gathering now. The side glances, the awkward silences when I move, the hushed conversations they think I can’t hear. During our last meal together, I felt the tension shift when I tried to get up from the table. I pressed down on the armrests, my belly resting heavily on my thighs, and pushed myself up. It took longer than expected… too long. I heard someone whisper, ‘Is she gonna make it?’ I almost laughed.

One of my cousins reached out to help me, as if this was the first time I’d done it on my own. Of course, I refused. But the moment left an uneasiness hanging in the air.

After that, the comments started rolling in. My uncle, with his usual teasing smirk, said, ‘We might need to reinforce these chairs for next time, huh!’ Nervous chuckles around the table. I just smiled and grabbed another slice of dessert.

But the funniest part? They won’t ask the real question. How far is this going to go? How much bigger am I going to get?

And the truth is… I wonder that too. And I absolutely love it. 🥰