Everything That's Precious

Chapter Thirteen: One Thing Still Haunts Me Though

September

8 Months, 1 week pregnant

Hannah was coming in less than a month; three weeks and four days to be exact. But I wasn't scared, not anymore. I was for a long while, but why should I still be scared when I have such an amazing support group? Why be scared when I knew that no one could ever love something as much as I loved my little dinosaur?

Jared told me every single day how strong and beautiful I was. For the longest time I didn't believe him, but as the days went by I was honestly starting to think that maybe he was right. I may be young, but I would never be naïve. I knew that having a baby at eighteen (yes, eighteen, happy belated birthday to me) was one of the hardest things a person could experience and I may not be completely ready, but I will be. As soon as I see Hannah's beautiful face for the first time, I would know.

I would know that it was worth it. Even if it won't be easy, my baby girl and I would get through it together. Every struggle, every tear, every missed out oppurtunity would be worth it. Just getting the chance to watch her grow, smile, and laugh would be enough to compensate the experiences I would miss out on. Actually, when I thought about it, I wasn't really missing out on anything.

What might've surprised you most, however, was how things were going with Kyle. To my utter surprise, he had followed through on every promise he made to me in that email. He hadn't missed a doctor's appointment since (there had only been two) and he'd even tried to make amends with my mom and sister. Also, Jared seemed to dislike him less, sort of. Kyle still told me every chance he got how sorry he was and how much he loved me. To be honest, part of me was starting to believe him. I think part of me always had.

The thing about Kyle is that he wasn't always a lost soul; I knew that from the second I met him. He grew up hard, forced to be tough at a young age. Thrown into contact sports by his father, the only parent he'd ever really gotten the full chance to know. His mom died when he was nine, but I had only ever heard him talk about her once.

***

We'd probably been dating about five months and we were in his room, laying on his bed, just being, you know? We did that sometimes, just laid there next to each other in complete silence, not a word shared between us. I don't think I'd ever felt more accepted, more understood than in those moments. The time Kyle told me about his mom was during one of those moments. We'd just been there, two souls adrift amongst each other, when he got really rigid all of a sudden. I had automatically snapped out of my reverie.

"Kyle, you alright?" I asked, "Is something wrong?"

And then out of nowhere, he just started to cry. Kyle, of all people, had cried. I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I thought I could. I curled myself around him and pressed my lips to his neck. I must've stayed in that position, comforting him, for what seemed like years. Finally, he spoke.

"No, Soph, I'm not alright," he said.

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied, but he didn't utter a single word for several more minutes. "It's my mom. I was thinking about this one time, I must've been about five or six, when she'd gotten out of work early to surprise me and my sister at school. She picked us up, brought us home, ya know? Did stuff most moms do. But this time it was different, yet strangely familiar. I even remember what she was wearing; this deep purple blouse, her favorite one. I still remember what it felt like, too. Purple was my mother's favorite color," he paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "That was the day I got Lena."

Lena had been his black lab, his absolute best friend.

"Really? I thought your dad found Lena on the streets and took her in?" I interrupted.