Unconventional

Money

Jennifer sat on the train, the rhythmic hum beneath her a dull background to the storm of thoughts swirling in her head. She hadn't looked at her phone again since leaving Emilio's texts on read, but the weight of everything still lingered in the pit of her stomach. She pressed a hand to her belly, feeling another small flutter from the baby. A tiny, innocent reminder that time was ticking, and she couldn't afford to be reckless anymore.

The last of the money she'd gotten back from the motel was tucked inside her wallet, but as she thought about it, the reality started sinking in. She was running out. Fast.

Her fingers tightened around the small, crumpled bills. It wasn't enough—not for long. Between the train fare and whatever food she'd need to buy, she had maybe a week, if that. She cursed herself for not having thought things through better. She had fled in a panic, thinking only of getting away from Emilio, but now the fear of survival started to creep in.

Jennifer leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes for a moment. She didn't have anyone she could call for help. No friends, no family that wouldn't point her right back to him. She was completely on her own, and with the baby growing every day, she knew she had to act fast.

She needed a job.

The thought made her stomach twist with anxiety. Finding a job in a new town, with no stability and barely any savings, wasn't going to be easy. And how would she even explain her situation? She couldn't afford to stay in one place for long; she was constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for Emilio to catch up. And then there was her pregnancy. What employer would want to hire someone who was seven months pregnant, who would need maternity leave in just a few weeks?

Her mind raced as she stared out at the blurred scenery rushing past the window. She needed something simple, something quick. Something that didn't ask too many questions. Maybe a waitressing gig, or some kind of temporary work. She could work under the table if she had to, just long enough to save up for whatever came next.

But she couldn't waste time. The money in her wallet wasn't enough for another motel, much less anything else. She pulled her phone out of her pocket again, her fingers moving quickly as she searched for job listings in nearby towns. As the train carried her farther from Emilio, she scrolled through the listings, her eyes scanning for anything—restaurants, shops, anything that might offer cash or hire on the spot.

Her pulse quickened as she realized just how limited her options were. But she couldn't let herself panic. Not yet. She would figure it out. She had to. There was no other choice.

Jennifer's eyes drifted back to the window, the dark landscape outside blending into the distant horizon. She pressed a hand to her belly again, feeling the faint kick of the baby.

"We'll make it," she whispered to herself, to the little life growing inside her. "I promise."

But even as she made that promise, the uncertainty weighed heavily on her. She needed to find a way to survive—before the money ran out and the walls closed in around her again.

———-

The train had taken Jennifer to a small, bustling city. For the first few days, she felt a glimmer of hope. The streets were lively, the air full of the hum of people going about their daily lives. She walked from one end of the city to the other, her suitcase in tow, applying for any job she could find—cafés, diners, shops. But despite her best efforts, the responses were always the same: no openings, or if there were, no one was hiring right now.

The city's initial promise quickly soured. She spent days visiting potential employers, each rejection chipping away at her hope. Her days became a monotonous routine of wandering the streets, applying for jobs, and trying to make the last of her money stretch.

But the days turned into weeks, and the money dwindled faster than she had anticipated. Her nights were spent in dingy motels that only offered marginally better conditions than the last, each one a little more run-down than the last. With every rent payment, the balance in her wallet shrank, and the bills mounted.

By the end of the second week, Jennifer was down to her last few dollars. The fear that had been a dull throb in the back of her mind was now a gnawing, relentless force. She tried to ignore it, hoping against hope that she'd find something—anything—that would provide a lifeline.

But the reality was harsh. The city was expensive, and her remaining money was barely enough for food, let alone any more accommodations. The prospect of homelessness loomed closer every day, and the strain was starting to show.

One evening, she found herself sitting on a park bench, clutching a crumpled bag of fast food. She stared at the empty wrappers, her stomach ached from hunger and stress. The baby's kicks were softer now, almost a distant feeling. She wondered if it was because she was too tired or because there simply wasn't enough food to nourish them both. The thought made her tears well up, but she quickly brushed them away. She couldn't afford to be weak.

She pulled out her phone, feeling the heavy weight of her situation. The screen lit up with new messages—mostly from Emilio, but also a few missed calls. She scrolled through them, his angry, desperate words piercing through her like needles.

His messages had started off with irritation, then escalated to threats, and finally, to the cold reality of his expectations. The messages had become increasingly demanding, each one a reminder of the control he still exerted, even from afar.

As she read through the latest text, a shiver ran down her spine. The messages were a mix of anger and spite, but the last one stood out: "You're running out of time. Come back to me or face the consequences."

Jennifer's breath hitched. She knew she couldn't go back to Emilio, not after everything. But she also knew she was running out of options. Her bank account was nearly empty, and the reality of her situation was becoming more desperate by the day.

Her resolve began to crumble. She couldn't keep up this charade forever. The baby needed stability, and she needed a way to provide it. The harsh truth was that if she didn't find a solution soon, she would have no choice but to return to Emilio.

With a heavy heart, Jennifer decided to make the call. She dialed his number, her hands trembling. The phone rang, each tone echoing her dread, until finally, his voice answered.

"What?" Emilio's voice was cold and flat, his impatience clear.

"It's me," Jennifer said, her voice breaking. "I... I need to come back."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. When Emilio spoke again, his voice was unrecognizable, a mix of triumph and something darker. "So, you finally realized?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I don't have any other choice."

Emilio's laughter was bitter, filled with satisfaction. "You better be ready to face the consequences of your actions. But fine. Come back. I'll be waiting."

Jennifer ended the call, her phone slipping from her fingers as she slumped back on the bench. The city that had once seemed full of promise now felt like a cage. She was defeated, her spirit worn thin.

As she gathered her things and prepared to leave, the reality of returning to Emilio felt like a crushing weight. But it was the only option left. She had to go back, to face him, and to hope that somehow, she could find a way to protect herself and her baby.

With a heavy heart, Jennifer made her way to the nearest train station, the journey back feeling like a dark tunnel with no end in sight.