Staring at the stick in your hand, you felt your entire world shift. You couldn't believe it. A part of you—no, a part of him—was growing inside you.
You were excited. But terrified. You hadn't told him yet... and honestly, you didn't even know how to.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of the front door opening.
Panicked, you quickly tossed the pregnancy test into the trash and stepped out into the living room.
"Hey, daddy," you greeted him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Wassup, baby?" he said, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead. "What you been up to today?"
"Oh, nothing much."
"You good, doll?" he asked, sitting on the couch and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. "You look like you seen a ghost."
And then, it just burst out of you—too heavy to keep in any longer.
"I'm pregnant."
"What?" His eyes snapped to you, disbelief painted all over his face.
"I'm pregnant, J. We're going to have a baby."
"We're not having shit," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Why would you say that?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears brimmed in your eyes. "I don't believe in abortions, so—"
"I don't give a fuck what you believe in," he cut in sharply. "You're not having that baby."
"Says who?" you shot back, challenging him.
"You really wanna play with me right now?" he said, rising to his feet, voice escalating.
"I'm having this baby, J. And if you don't want to be part of it, fine. I'll leave. But I'm not killing them... and I'm sure as hell not giving them away." You turned on your heel and headed upstairs, heart pounding as you started packing a bag.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he followed, storming into the room behind you.
"I'm leaving. You don't want this baby? Fine. I'll go."
"And go where, baby? A fucking hotel?" he said, as if the idea itself was ridiculous.
"Yeah," you murmured quietly.
He groaned, frustrated at your stubbornness. "Keep the fucking kid, then. But don't expect me to be all-in."
"Really?"
"Yeah, doll. Don't make me change my fucking mind. We'll go to the doctor tomorrow."
You exhaled, giving him a small, hopeful smile. "Okay."
⸻
The hospital room was quiet as you sat on the exam table, fingers interlocked in your lap. J sat beside you, scrolling through his phone, barely looking up.
"You excited, daddy?" you asked softly.
"Nah," he mumbled without lifting his eyes.
Finally, the doctor entered the room.
"Alright, so... we've got some good news and some not-so-good news."
"Oh, fucking great," J muttered under his breath.
"Can we hear the good news first?" you asked, trying to stay positive.
"The good news is that everything looks healthy—for now. But..." The doctor paused, his expression turning grim. "The bad news is, if you go through with this pregnancy, there's a high chance of major blood loss. You could die."
"What the fuck?" J snapped. "What do you mean she could die?"
"She's considered high-risk," the doctor explained calmly. "There's a significant chance of severe complications."
"What are the options?" you whispered, your heart sinking.
"You can go through with it and we'll monitor you closely... or you can terminate the pregnancy."
"Get rid of it," J said instantly. No hesitation.
"J!" you gasped.
"Do you want to fucking die?" he hissed at you.
The doctor cleared his throat. "I'll give you two a moment."
As the door shut behind him, silence flooded the room like a wave. You stared at each other, the weight of the choice pressing down on both of you.
"Let's go," he said coldly, breaking the silence.
⸻
Back home, the tension was unbearable.
"J, I think we—"
"I don't give a fuck what you think," he cut you off. "You're getting that little shit out of you."
"No!" you shouted through tears. "I don't want to!"
"Do you want to fucking die?!" he yelled back.
"No... but if I do, at least you'll have a piece of me."
"I don't want a piece of you," he growled, stepping toward you. "I want all of you." He shoved you lightly against the wall, hands trembling with emotion. "You're getting rid of it. Tomorrow."
"But what about me?" you whispered, barely able to look him in the eyes. "What about what I want?"
His voice dropped, firm and raw. "Right now, baby... I don't give a fuck about what you want. I'm not letting that kid take you away from me. I choose you. It will always be you."
He looked down at your stomach, then placed a hand over it—just for a second. And then he pulled away, walking toward his office without another word.
You slid down the wall, silent tears soaking your cheeks. You placed your hand gently over your belly.
"I'm so sorry," you whispered.
"Hopefully... one day, we'll meet again."
