"Her or me?" A tear rolled down Michelle's puffy cheek, "You have to make a decision."
For Michelle, life has always been about control- control in the studio, in her friendships, and even in the secrets she hides. But with an unexpected pregnancy...
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I kick my feet, eagerly, as I wait for Jones to get here. I was bored; I couldn't help it, so I decided to fill my night with a little excitement. I don't often spend time with him, but I secretly wish that that could change. I miss him, but being with him just causes too many problems.
I glance at my reflection in a small, handheld mirror, making sure that I look perfect. I touch up my makeup before wrapping my curls around my fingers to perfect them.
I get quite nervous when I know that I'm going to be seeing him. I'm never usually like this with people that I've dated. Usually, I couldn't give a fuck what they thought of me, but with him, it's different.
I guess that I want his approval. I want him to like what he sees when he looks at me. I want him to crave me just like I do with him.
All of a sudden, I put down the mirror when I hear the door swinging open. He walks into the office, knowing exactly where I'll be. The dancers left almost an hour ago, and I wasted no time in asking him to come here.
"Tell me why you asked me to bring this?" He says, holding up a bottle of vodka.
"Because I'm bored," I tell him, a smirk on my face.
"You're not thinking you're gonna drink this, are you?"
I furrow my brows. "Well, what else am I gonna do with it?"
I stand up, grabbing the bottle off of him and placing it on the desk.
"And I know you're not gonna stop me from doing that, are you?" I tease him.
He rolls his eyes at me, playfully. "You're pregnant, Michelle, with my child. You may not want to be a responsible parent, but I shouldn't be encouraging you to do this."
"Oh, come on!" I've had enough of him acting like he doesn't want to see me finish the bottle. "Stop pretending like you give a shit whether I drink it or not. You don't, and I know you don't."
He begins to open the bottle while saying. "Oh, well, if that kid comes out fucked, don't be blaming me."
I can't help but feel excited as I watch as he unscrews the cap. I haven't had a drink since I found out that I was pregnant, and I've been craving it ever since. I tried to be a responsible mother. It worked for a while, but I slowly began not to care.
I wasn't designed to be pregnant. I wasn't designed to have a child and actually feel like I had the responsibility of its care.
"It's already fucked." I grab the bottle from him before taking a swig of it.
I take a moment, letting the feeling sink in as the liquid burns my throat as I swallow it. The feeling is so fulfilling, and I get so much pleasure from it.
