The Ex-Husband of Alice Langley

27

PARIS-SWIFT KELCE
I've made my decision, and it feels final. I'm too young for all of this—too young to raise a baby, too young to be burdened with something so life-altering. The appointment is in two days, and I've barely been able to breathe. My family has been hovering like vultures, constantly reassuring me that everything's going to be okay, like I'm some kind of brave warrior when I feel anything but.

Can someone just let me flip my shit in peace?

Needing space, I told my parents I wanted to stay with Alice for a couple of nights. Being around her chaotic household, with kids having meltdowns and her house always in some level of disaster, feels like it'll help me stick to my decision. If anything, it should solidify it.

I stand outside her door, and the sensor scans me with a low hum. "Access granted."

"Great, so it's only my house that doesn't work right," I mutter, feeling that tiny twinge of irritation.

As I walk inside, I immediately spot Alice in the living room, sitting on the couch... breastfeeding. My brain goes into panic mode. "Oh god, I'm sorry!" I yelp, covering my eyes and spinning around like I've walked in on something private.

Alice just chuckles, completely unfazed. "Dude, it's okay. It's perfectly natural. You've seen my vagina. I think my boobs are pretty lowkey at this point."

I can't help but cringe a little as I awkwardly walk over and sit beside her on the couch, my eyes carefully avoiding her chest. "Doesn't mean I want to see them."

She shakes her head, amused, and gestures toward the stroller. "Then go grab my nursing cover. It's right there."

I roll my eyes but comply, getting up to fetch the cover. The moment feels so ordinary for her, but for me, it's like I'm staring into a possible future.

I hand her the nursing cover, and she drapes it over herself, finally giving me the chance to look at her without feeling like I'm intruding.

"Thank you for letting me come over," I say, sinking back into the couch. "I love Mom, but sometimes she's a little... I don't even know how to say it."

Alice looks at me knowingly. "Too supportive?"

"Yes! Exactly!" I exclaim, relieved someone else gets it. "Like, all she does is tell me how brave I am for everything. But I don't feel brave at all. I just—I'm 22, you know? I shouldn't need my mom to figure out my problems for me."

Alice nods, understanding written all over her face. "I get it. It's like you're supposed to have it all together, but sometimes it feels like everyone's putting more pressure on you by constantly reassuring you."

I sigh, leaning back and resting my head on the couch. "Yeah, like... I'm already stressed enough, and I know she means well, but it's not helping. I just wish someone would let me break down without trying to fix it for me. I need space to figure things out on my own."

"Mom just has a habit of trying to fix everyone's problems. She doesn't like it when someone is hurting," Alice says, her tone soft but understanding.

I nod, grateful for the insight. "You've been calling her Mom for a bit now. You were so hell-bent on calling her Taylor before, never really letting us into your life."

Alice gives a small, thoughtful smile. "She's just... a better Mom than my adoptive ones. She's judgment-free and was there when I needed her most. Plus, you can't have her without the whole package." She gestures loosely, as if to indicate all the connections between us—our siblings, our shared experiences.

"Well, now you've got a sister, brother, mom, and, well, a situation with my dad," I say, shrugging slightly.

"Yeah..." Alice trails off, thoughtful. "Your dad and I never really bonded much, did we?"