Patience Heart

Facing Adam

For days, I've been running from Adam. My phone is a constant reminder of my guilt and my failures, each missed call a stab to my already aching heart. I've avoided his texts and calls, hoping that if I just disappear for long enough, he'll give up on me. But deep down, I know that's not fair to him. It's not fair to anyone.

I've been living in a cocoon of denial, convinced that if I ignore everything, maybe the nightmare of my reality will somehow dissipate. But as I sit alone in my apartment, the walls closing in around me, I know I can't keep this up. I need to face the music, and I need to do it on my terms.

I've been dreading this conversation, fearing it would end in tears and heartbreak. But avoiding it has only made things worse. I need to be honest with Adam. I need to tell him the truth, even if it means pushing him away for good.

I take a deep breath, my hands trembling as I dial Adam's number. Each ring feels like a small eternity, the anticipation almost unbearable. When he finally picks up, his voice on the other end is soft, tentative.

"Viola? Is that you?"

"Yes, Adam. It's me," I manage to say, my voice trembling. "Can we meet? I need to talk to you."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, and I can almost see the surprise in his eyes. "Of course. Where do you want to meet?"

We decide on a quiet café, the same one we'd gone to during those initial days when we were still figuring out our feelings for each other. I arrive early, the familiar surroundings doing little to calm my nerves. I sit at a corner table, trying to steady my breathing as I wait for Adam.

When he walks in, his face lights up with a smile that quickly fades when he sees me. His eyes search mine, filled with concern and confusion. I stand to greet him, and he pulls me into a hug, a gesture that feels both comforting and painful. The warmth of his embrace contrasts sharply with the cold weight of the truth I'm about to reveal.

We sit down, and for a few moments, the silence is heavy between us. I can see the hurt and confusion in Adam's eyes, and it only makes my own guilt feel sharper. I need to break this silence, but the words stick in my throat.

"Adam, I... I don't even know how to start," I say finally, my voice breaking.

He reaches across the table, his hand covering mine. "Whatever it is, we can get through it together. Just tell me."

I take a deep breath, trying to find the strength to face the storm. "I'm pregnant, Adam."

His hand goes still, and he stares at me, shock evident on his face. "Pregnant?" he repeats, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes. It's... it's true. I've known for a few weeks now." I pause, gathering my thoughts. "I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want to drag you into this mess. I've been trying to figure out what to do on my own."

Adam's eyes search mine, a mix of concern and something else I can't quite place. "But why? Why wouldn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to involve you," I say, tears welling up in my eyes. "I've been avoiding you because I thought it would be easier for you if I just disappeared. I didn't want you to feel obligated to help me. I didn't want you to... to be tied to this mess."

Adam's face hardens with determination. "Viola, I care about you. I always have. This isn't just your mess; it's ours now. You can't push me away. I want to be here for you. I want to be involved. And if that means marrying you, then so be it. I want us to face this together."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I want to believe him, I really do. But the fear and uncertainty are too overwhelming. I shake my head, tears threatening to spill over. "You don't understand. This isn't just about being involved. This is about responsibility, about choices I've made that I can't undo. I don't want you to marry me out of obligation or pity. I need you to understand that this is my mess, and I have to deal with it."

Adam's eyes soften, but there's a resolve in his voice. "Viola, I don't see this as a mess. I see it as a chance for us to face this together. If you're worried about obligation, let me assure you: I want to marry you because I care about you deeply. It's not out of pity or duty. I love you, and I want to support you, no matter how difficult this situation is."

I want to believe him, but the fear is too strong. The sincerity in his voice is undeniable, but it's not enough to dispel my fears. "Adam, I can't ask you to do that. I don't want you to feel trapped."

Adam takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm not feeling trapped. I'm feeling determined. I want to be with you, Viola. I want to marry you. I want to be a part of this."

His words should comfort me, but instead, they make everything feel heavier. I know he means it, that he's willing to take on the responsibility, but I can't let him. Not like this. "I need time to think, Adam. I need to process this. I can't just jump into a decision like that."

"I understand," Adam says, his expression softening. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'll give you the time you need, but I'll also be here for you. I want to help you with everything, from this pregnancy to whatever comes next."

The weight of his words sinks in, and I feel both comforted and overwhelmed. I know he's sincere, but the decision before me is far from simple. We finish our meal in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. When we part ways, Adam's parting words are a promise, not a plea: "I'll be here, Viola. Whenever you're ready."

As I walk away, the reality of the situation crashes down on me. His offer, his unwavering support—it's everything I should want. But all I feel is an overwhelming sense of fear and confusion. The future feels so uncertain, and I'm not sure I'm ready to take that leap.