{"id":6592,"date":"2026-05-17T13:08:14","date_gmt":"2026-05-17T13:08:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/?p=6592"},"modified":"2026-05-17T13:08:14","modified_gmt":"2026-05-17T13:08:14","slug":"of-the-clumsiness-of-a-pregnant-woman-changing-in-the-dark-who-no-longer-had-the-patience-to-start-over","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/?p=6592","title":{"rendered":"Of the clumsiness of a pregnant woman changing in the dark who no longer had the patience to start over.-"},"content":{"rendered":"

At first I didn’t answer him, because my body seemed to understand before my pride.<\/span><\/p>\n

The room tilted around me, slowly, as if the floor had turned to water beneath my bare feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie’s hand remained pressed against her belly, her fingers outstretched, as if she could hold it all in by force.<\/span><\/p>\n

I saw the phone on the nightstand, with the screen facing down and the charging cable half unplugged from the wall.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"May<\/span><\/p>\n

Beside her, a glass of water had been spilled, which explained one of the stains, but not the fear in her eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Adrien,” she whispered again, and this time my name sounded less like a call than a plea.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I moved, clumsily and late, kneeling beside the bed with shame already burning behind my eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her skin was cold when I touched her wrist, and that coldness frightened me more than the wet sheets.<\/span><\/p>\n

“How long?” I asked, though my voice sounded raspy, almost like someone else’s.<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked at me, blinking, trying to concentrate, trying to make the words pierce through the pain.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Since ten o’clock,” she said. “Maybe earlier. I thought it was cramps. Then I tried to call you.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked at the phone again, and the dark screen suddenly seemed heavier than any accusation.<\/span><\/p>\n

Twenty missed calls, he had told me, while I was on the air, pleased with my surprise.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to tell her that I had arrived early because I loved her, but now words seemed useless.<\/span><\/p>\n

Instead, with trembling fingers, I reached for his phone and turned it over.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The screen lit up.<\/span><\/p>\n

His call history filled the glass as if it were evidence against me.<\/span><\/p>\n

My name, repeated over and over, each attempt marked by a moment when I had not been there.<\/span><\/p>\n

There were also two calls to the emergency line, both brief, too brief, and both ended before anyone could help.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I couldn’t speak,” she murmured, following my gaze. “I panicked. Then I thought maybe I was overreacting.”<\/span><\/p>\n

That phrase hurt me in a way I didn’t deserve.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because while she was afraid of exaggerating, I had stayed by her side inventing a betrayal.<\/span><\/p>\n

I swallowed hard and helped her sit down, but she screamed and grabbed my arm.<\/span><\/p>\n

It wasn’t a loud or dramatic sound, just a staccato sound that suddenly made the apartment seem too small.<\/span><\/p>\n

“We have to go,” I said, reaching for the blanket at the foot of the bed.<\/span><\/p>\n

He shook his head, and the movement was so slight that it was hardly noticeable.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Wait,” she whispered. “My bag. My medical file. It’s in the drawer.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I opened the drawer too quickly and papers, receipts, an old movie ticket, and her prenatal records fell to the floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

The folder was blue, with his name written in neat black letters on the cover.<\/span><\/p>\n

I remembered seeing her write it, her tongue caught between her teeth, proud of being prepared.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now my hands could barely close it around him.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I turned around, Lucie was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

It’s not suspicion.<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s not anger.<\/span><\/p>\n

Something worse, perhaps.<\/span><\/p>\n

A conscience weary of not having asked the first question that a loving husband should have asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Did you think I was with someone?” she asked in a low voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

The words didn’t sound like an accusation.<\/span><\/p>\n

They landed softly, and that softness made them impossible to avoid.<\/span><\/p>\n

I opened my mouth, but nothing honest could come out of my lips without ruining me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Outside, somewhere below our window, a motorcycle passed by on the empty street with a faint metallic whir.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie heard that sound as if it gave her a breath of fresh air.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then she looked away from me and touched her belly again.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I saw your face,” she said. “Before you touched me. I saw what you were thinking.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to deny it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to say no, never, impossible, that fear had confused me for just a second.<\/span><\/p>\n

But the truth stood between us, with the towel on the floor and the nightgown on backwards.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n

It wasn’t enough.<\/span><\/p>\n

We both knew it.<\/span><\/p>\n

She closed her eyes and, for a moment, her breathing became shallow and irregular.<\/span><\/p>\n

I helped her put a coat over her nightgown, careful not to look at the stains anymore.<\/span><\/p>\n

The back seams peeked out from under the collar, small and absurd, as proof of how powerless the night had been.<\/span><\/p>\n

She noticed my gaze and answered before I could ask.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI put it on after I showered,\u201d she said. \u201cI was dizzy. I couldn\u2019t tell the front from the back.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The explanation was so simple that it became unbearable.<\/span><\/p>\n

There is no secret lover.<\/span><\/p>\n

Without rushing to leave.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just a woman, alone, pregnant, scared, and too weak to dress properly.<\/span><\/p>\n

I tied her shoes because she couldn’t bend down, and she watched my hands with silent weariness.<\/span><\/p>\n

His silence was not empty.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was filled with every minute he had waited.<\/span><\/p>\n

Every unanswered call.<\/span><\/p>\n

Every wrong thought that I allowed to grow inside me.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the elevator, he leaned against the wall and pressed the folder to his chest.<\/span><\/p>\n

The fluorescent light made her face look almost gray.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stayed by her side, without touching her this time, because I didn’t know if my touch still comforted her.<\/span><\/p>\n

The numbers above the door slowly descended.<\/span><\/p>\n

Fourth floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

Third.<\/span><\/p>\n

Second.<\/span><\/p>\n

Each pause felt like a small punishment.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the entrance, the night air hit us hard, and Lucie took a deep breath through clenched teeth.<\/span><\/p>\n

I guided her to the car, opened the passenger door, and placed my hand on the roof.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stopped before entering.<\/span><\/p>\n

For a terrifying second, I thought she was going to faint.<\/span><\/p>\n

Instead, he looked at me and asked, “Were you afraid for me first, or were you angry first?”<\/span><\/p>\n

The question was gentle enough to be almost kind.<\/span><\/p>\n

That made it worse.<\/span><\/p>\n

He could have lied.<\/span><\/p>\n

She could have chosen the milder version, the one in which love had simply been startled by fear.<\/span><\/p>\n

The version in which I was a good man who made a terrible mistake at a terrible time.<\/span><\/p>\n

But she had already seen my face.<\/span><\/p>\n

And I had already seen his call history.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI was the first to get angry,\u201d I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her eyelids trembled, but she didn’t cry.<\/span><\/p>\n

She nodded only once, as if some suspicion she had harbored inside had finally been answered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then he got into the car.<\/span><\/p>\n

I drove faster than I should have, even though every red light seemed designed to test me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie sat rigidly, both hands on her stomach, breathing with each wave of pain.<\/span><\/p>\n

Between one intersection and the next, my phone vibrated in my jacket pocket.<\/span><\/p>\n

I ignored him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then it started buzzing again.<\/span><\/p>\n

And again.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the next red light, I took it out, hoping to find a job, hoping for anything normal.<\/span><\/p>\n

She was my mother.<\/span><\/p>\n

Three messages.<\/span><\/p>\n

Are you home yet?<\/span><\/p>\n

Call me before you speak to Lucie.<\/span><\/p>\n

Please, Adrien. There are things you need to know.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stared at the screen until the light turned green and a horn sounded behind us.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie turned her head slowly.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Who is it?” she asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

“My mother,” I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

At that moment, something changed in her face.<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s not surprising.<\/span><\/p>\n

Recognition.<\/span><\/p>\n

As if a small missing piece had slid into place.<\/span><\/p>\n

“He called me tonight,” Lucie said.<\/span><\/p>\n

I gripped the steering wheel tighter.<\/span><\/p>\n

“When?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAround nine o\u2019clock. Before the pain became unbearable.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Her voice was weak, but firm enough to instill fear in me about what would come next.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe told me I shouldn\u2019t trap you with a child if I wasn\u2019t sure about our marriage yet.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

For a moment, the road disappeared behind a beam of lights.<\/span><\/p>\n

From inside the closed car, I could hear my own breathing, rough and irregular.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie looked out the windshield.<\/span><\/p>\n

The hospital sign appeared further ahead, blue and white, too bright against the backdrop of the night.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe said that sometimes men need proof before they believe they are fathers.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My stomach turned.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not because the sentence was shocking.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because I recognized him.<\/span><\/p>\n

My mother had said something similar weeks before, smiling as she drank coffee, pretending that concern was wisdom.<\/span><\/p>\n

She had asked if Lucie seemed distant.<\/span><\/p>\n

If pregnancy made women feel emotional.<\/span><\/p>\n

If I had ever thought about taking a paternity test, it was simply to put my doubts to rest before they arose.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had told him not to talk nonsense.<\/span><\/p>\n

But he hadn’t told Lucie.<\/span><\/p>\n

He had kept it small.<\/span><\/p>\n

Harmless.<\/span><\/p>\n

A family nuisance that’s not worth having at home.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now that silence remained with us in the car.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie’s phone had fallen into the gap next to her seat, vibrating slightly against the plastic.<\/span><\/p>\n

I bent down at the entrance of the hospital and picked it up.<\/span><\/p>\n

My mother’s number was also there, in Lucie’s missed calls and in one answered call that lasted six minutes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Six minutes before the pain turned into fear.<\/span><\/p>\n

Six minutes of words I hadn’t heard.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the entrance to the emergency room, a nurse brought a wheelchair after taking a look at Lucie’s face.<\/span><\/p>\n

The questions soon followed.<\/span><\/p>\n

How many weeks?<\/span><\/p>\n

Any bleeding?<\/span><\/p>\n

Any falls, accidents, or previous complications?<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie answered as best she could.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stood behind her, holding the blue folder, useless and sweating under my coat.<\/span><\/p>\n

When they asked me if I was the father, Lucie hesitated for a moment.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then she said yes.<\/span><\/p>\n

That small delay pierced me like a needle.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not because he no longer doubted the child.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because I realized that my doubt had become visible enough to make her stop.<\/span><\/p>\n

They took her behind a curtain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

I kept going until a nurse gently placed a hand on my chest.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Just one minute,” he said. “Then we need space.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie lay on the examination table, staring at the ceiling tiles.<\/span><\/p>\n

The room smelled of disinfectant and hot plastic.<\/span><\/p>\n

A machine blinked beside him, patient and indifferent.<\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor arrived with tired eyes and a calm voice that made everything more frightening.<\/span><\/p>\n

He asked her questions, gently palpated her abdomen, and then ordered tests and an ultrasound.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie turned her face towards me as they prepared the equipment.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t call your mother,” he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

It wasn’t a request.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was the first time he set a boundary between us and my family.<\/span><\/p>\n

I nodded too quickly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then my phone vibrated again.<\/span><\/p>\n

This time, the sound seemed enormous in the small room.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie heard it.<\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor heard it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Even the nurse glanced into my pocket.<\/span><\/p>\n

I took out my phone and saw my mother’s name shining there, persistent and familiar.<\/span><\/p>\n

For years, I answered to that name without thinking.<\/span><\/p>\n

When my father died, she had become so fragile that refusing to accept it seemed cruel to her.<\/span><\/p>\n

She had opinions about our apartment, our finances, Lucie’s job, the baby’s name.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had smoothed all the sharp edges before they reached my wife.<\/span><\/p>\n

Or at least I had told myself that I had.<\/span><\/p>\n

But maybe I didn’t protect Lucie.<\/span><\/p>\n

Perhaps I had only protected myself from having to choose.<\/span><\/p>\n

The phone kept ringing.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie was watching me, her face pale and her eyes darker than I had ever seen them.<\/span><\/p>\n

At that moment I understood that the choice was not between answering or ignoring a call.<\/span><\/p>\n

I was caught between the truth and the comfortable lie I had lived in for years.<\/span><\/p>\n

The lie that I could fully love my wife while letting my mother poison the boundaries of our life.<\/span><\/p>\n

The lie that silence was synonymous with neutrality.<\/span><\/p>\n

The lie that doubt, if not expressed, leaves no wound.<\/span><\/p>\n

I rejected the call.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I turned the phone off completely.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie closed her eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not with relief, exactly.<\/span><\/p>\n

With exhaustion.<\/span><\/p>\n

The ultrasound gel was cold; she shuddered when it touched her skin.<\/span><\/p>\n

The room fell into complete silence.<\/span><\/p>\n

Only the machine was humming.<\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor moved the probe slowly, with a carefully indecipherable expression.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stared at the screen without understanding the shadows.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie watched the doctor.<\/span><\/p>\n

His fingers felt across the sheet of paper until I brought my hand close to his.<\/span><\/p>\n

At first he did not accept it.<\/span><\/p>\n

That refusal was minimal.<\/span><\/p>\n

Almost invisible.<\/span><\/p>\n

But it opened a wound inside me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then another pain crossed her face, and despite everything, her fingers closed around mine.<\/span><\/p>\n

I clung to life, not as a forgiven man, but as someone who was allowed to do something useful.<\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor adjusted the image.<\/span><\/p>\n

A granular form appeared.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then a flash.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tiny.<\/span><\/p>\n

Unstable.<\/span><\/p>\n

Vivo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere is cardiac activity,\u201d he said cautiously.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie made a sound that almost resembled a sob, but stopped before it became one.<\/span><\/p>\n

My knees buckled.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to cry, but even that seemed selfish.<\/span><\/p>\n

The doctor continued speaking, explaining the risks, the observation, the possible complications, words like threatened miscarriage and bed rest.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nothing was certain.<\/span><\/p>\n

There is no loss.<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s not security.<\/span><\/p>\n

Only the fragile present.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie stared at the screen as if blinking could make the flash disappear.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stared at her.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the sweat near the hairline.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wearing the nightgown inside out under the open coat.<\/span><\/p>\n

To the woman he had almost misunderstood at the very moment he most needed to believe in her.<\/span><\/p>\n

After the examination, she was taken to a small observation room with a narrow window.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dawn was beginning to paint the sky gray over the hospital parking lot.<\/span><\/p>\n

The nurse told me to drink coffee, to breathe, to sit down before I fell.<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t do any of those things.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stood by the bed while Lucie rested, with one hand still on her belly.<\/span><\/p>\n

My phone remained switched off in my pocket, heavy as a rock.<\/span><\/p>\n

When he opened his eyes again, the room was filled with the light of dawn.<\/span><\/p>\n

In that light he looked younger.<\/span><\/p>\n

And more distant.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I need you to tell me something,” she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

I leaned closer.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Anything.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked at me carefully for a long time before speaking.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf your mother asks you for proof, will you ask her for it in her presence?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

This time the question didn’t surprise me.<\/span><\/p>\n

He took away the last place where I could hide.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because a frightened part of me had already imagined tests, dates, guarantees, ways to silence what should never have been fed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Outside the room, the squeaking of wheels could be heard as they traveled down the corridor.<\/span><\/p>\n

Someone chuckled softly at the nurses’ station, and that everyday sound made the question sound even harsher.<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought of my mother alone in her apartment, waiting for obedience disguised as concern.<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought of Lucie alone in our bed, calling me twenty times while the pain doubled her over.<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought of the baby’s heartbeat, blinking on a screen, asking nothing more of me than honesty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014No\u2014I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

The word came out in a low voice, but it did not tremble.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie kept staring at me.<\/span><\/p>\n

So I said it again.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo. And I should have said no long before tonight.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Her eyes slowly filled, not with relief, but with something more complex.<\/span><\/p>\n

Pain, perhaps.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because a late answer still carries the consequences of its delay.<\/span><\/p>\n

I took the blue folder from the chair and placed it on the bed next to her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFor a moment I thought something horrible,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m not going to pretend I didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He clenched his jaw.<\/span><\/p>\n

I forced myself not to look away.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I let my mother\u2019s words stick in my mind because it was easier than confronting her.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie turned her face towards the window.<\/span><\/p>\n

A fine morning line was drawn on her cheek.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t know what that makes us,” she whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Me neither.<\/span><\/p>\n

That was the truth.<\/span><\/p>\n

It is not broken beyond repair.<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s not safe.<\/span><\/p>\n

He is not innocent.<\/span><\/p>\n

Something in between, being in a hospital room, waiting to find out what might survive.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then my phone vibrated once, even though it was turned off.<\/span><\/p>\n

A remembered vibration, perhaps.<\/span><\/p>\n

Or guilt pretending to be sane.<\/span><\/p>\n

I put my hand in my pocket, took it out, and placed it on the table without turning it on.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie saw the gesture.<\/span><\/p>\n

This time, she did not nod.<\/span><\/p>\n

But she didn’t look away either.<\/span><\/p>\n

After a while, he said, “When we leave here, I don’t want to go back home and find your messages.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I understood what he was really asking.<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s not an apartment.<\/span><\/p>\n

This is not about voicemail.<\/span><\/p>\n

About whether I would finally come between her and what I had considered harmless.<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked at my phone.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then, seeing the slight bruise that my own nails had left on the palm of my hand that same night.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’ll call her from here,” I said. “And you won’t have to say a word.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie closed her eyes again.<\/span><\/p>\n

His hand slid once over her belly, slowly and with a protective gesture.<\/span><\/p>\n

The outside corridor was illuminated by the morning light, and somewhere nearby, another machine began to emit a rhythmic, steady beep.<\/span><\/p>\n

I picked up the phone.<\/span><\/p>\n

I turned it on.<\/span><\/p>\n

And before the first message had even finished loading, I already knew that the next words would cost me something.<\/span><\/p>\n

The first message loaded before I had time to prepare.<\/span><\/p>\n

Adrien, I know you’re angry, but a mother has the right to protect her child.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stared at the phrase until the letters stopped looking like words and became something colder.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie didn’t ask what he was saying.<\/span><\/p>\n

She just stared at my face, and that restraint was worse than any demand.<\/span><\/p>\n

After that, six messages arrived, each disguised as concern, each with the same poison.<\/span><\/p>\n

She’s very excited right now.<\/span><\/p>\n

Don’t let panic decide your future.<\/span><\/p>\n

A paternity test would protect everyone.<\/span><\/p>\n

You deserve to have certainty before committing forever.<\/span><\/p>\n

I read them all.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not because I wanted to.<\/span><\/p>\n

Because turning our backs now would just be another version of the same cowardice.<\/span><\/p>\n

My thumb hovered over the call button.<\/span><\/p>\n

For years, I responded to my mother with explanations, gentle words, and small concessions.<\/span><\/p>\n

That morning, in the hospital room, the explanations suddenly seemed like another way of asking Lucie to hold on longer.<\/span><\/p>\n

I pressed the call button.<\/span><\/p>\n

My mother answered on the second ring, breathless, as if she had been waiting with the phone in her hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAdrien, finally. Listen to me before I fill your head with tears.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Lucie’s fingers tightened around the sheet, but she remained silent.<\/span><\/p>\n

“No,” I said. “You will listen to me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

The line fell silent.<\/span><\/p>\n

I could hear my mother’s breathing, offended even before any accusation reached her.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Lucie is in the hospital,” I said. “The baby is in danger, and your words helped bring me here.”<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

At first I didn’t answer him, because my body seemed to understand before my pride. The room tilted around me, slowly, as if the floor<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6593,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6592","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-viral-article"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6592","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6592"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6592\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6594,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6592\/revisions\/6594"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6593"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6592"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6592"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viralarticles.it.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6592"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}