Sage

14

TW- DV

In front of me lie a plain lined ruled paper, my plans for the next eight or so months written out in scrabbled blue ink.

I don't even know if I could call them plans. They were merely ideas with question marks at the end; nothing was certain nor resolute. It frustrated me to no extent. The paper held droplets from the annoyed tears I cried as I wrote so hard the point of the pen nearly ripped the sheet.

I had no idea what I was going to do, and for a split second, I considered an abortion. I could get the pill since I was ten weeks and it was still an early termination. But did I really want to do that? I remembered Jenny's words about the seed but I still felt selfish.

There was no logical reason for me to have this baby.

And despite my friend's metaphor, I know deep down that the guilt I felt wasn't because I just wanted a baby, it was because I felt like I needed it.

I only lost my father two years ago. He was the closest blood that I had who loved me unconditionally. From a young age, I knew that I wanted to have a child to reciprocate that bond with. I wanted a baby to recreate the relationship I lost and it haunts me.

It could be that I was sitting here wallowing in my own self-pity, though. Jenny and Niall were at the shop since it was closer to ten, and I hadn't spoken to Harry since yesterday. Not that I really wanted to.

Seeing him only reminded me that my baby won't ever have the relationship my dad and I did. I'd have to be both parents and that stressed me out.

Danny hadn't called or texted me all day either. I don't know if he'd driven back home or not but I'm hoping he did.

My stomach grumbles and I place the sheet of paper on the coffee table along with the pen and make my way into the kitchen. I hadn't gone grocery shopping because I honestly didn't have the money to. Wickshire offered free meals from the cafeteria so I normally took an extra serving to bring home. On my days off, it was a little harder. One thing that my lack of appetite was good for was saving me money.

But when it caught up to me, it was an issue.

I close the fridge shut and run a hand through my hair to scratch at my scalp just as my phone vibrates on the couch.

I pad across the floor and grab it, not recognizing the number. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Gale."

"Hey, Gale...what's up?"

"I was just checking on you, didn't really get the chance to properly bid adieu yesterday," He jokes.

"Oh, sorry about that," I open my pantry for dry snacks, grabbing graham crackers that had gone stale a month ago. I pause and check the time on my microwave, furrowing my brows, "You do know it's almost eleven at night, right?"

He laughs, "I do. But I figured you'd send me to voicemail and all of this would be a message for you to wake up to."

"All of what?"

"Well, this Friday I've got Bruce Liu coming into the studio. I'm not sure if you know him or not but he's this really big pianist from Canada. He's coming to record some instrumentals and I wanted to know if you wanted to come and watch."

"I have no clue who that is," I laugh a little and toss the crakers in the trash as they have my face screwing up in disgust. "But I work this Friday,"

"It's Bruce Liu!" He repeats jokingly.

"Not ringing any bells,"

"Alright, well I thought I'd ask. If you happen to call out sick that day, you have my number. I'll have someone pick you up-, oh, speaking of. Did Harry ever get your car back?"