The Inevitable

Chapter 17: Unraveling

After Aqeelah's funeral, a heaviness settled in the pit of my stomach, and it seemed to cling to me like a second skin. The days turned into a blur of classes and obligatory smiles for Tatum and the few friends I had left. But Tyler, the one person I had relied on for support, had become a ghost, drifting further away from me with each passing day.

It started with him canceling plans, then skipping classes. I tried reaching out, texting him, calling him, but my messages went unanswered. Each time my phone buzzed, my heart raced with hope, only to plummet when it was someone else. I felt abandoned in my grief, and it gnawed at me.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day at school, I decided to pay Tyler a visit at his uncle's house. As I approached, a feeling of dread washed over me. The door creaked open, revealing a grim-faced Tyler standing in the dimly lit hallway.

"Hey," I said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "I've been trying to reach you."

He shrugged, not meeting my gaze. "Yeah, I've just been busy."

"Busy? With what?" I pressed, stepping inside. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension.

"Just... things," he replied, his tone evasive.

My heart sank as I realized something was off. "Tyler, please. I need you right now. Aqeelah—"

"Don't," he snapped, finally meeting my gaze, eyes dark and stormy. "I can't think about that right now."

"Why? Because you're too busy plotting some kind of revenge?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my frustration boiling over.

He froze, his jaw clenched. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" I shot back. "I heard from Aqeelah's cousin. They're saying you're leading the gang to avenge her death. Is that true?"

Silence hung between us, thick and suffocating.

"You're going to throw your life away for what? For a vendetta?" I took a step closer, pleading with him to see reason. "You know this isn't the answer."

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking torn. "They need someone to take charge. Aqeelah wouldn't have wanted—"

"Don't you dare say that!" I interrupted, my voice rising. "You're going down a path that will only lead to more pain. This isn't who you are!"

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think," he shot back, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Maybe I don't," I replied, my voice barely a whisper. My heart ached at the distance growing between us, and in that moment, I felt utterly alone.

I turned to leave, frustration bubbling inside me, when a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I stumbled back against the wall, panic rising in my chest. I had been feeling off for days, but I brushed it aside. Now, it all made sense.

After Tyler left, I made my way home, the reality crashing down on me. I couldn't be pregnant. I couldn't bring a child into this chaos, into a world where Tyler was getting involved in violence and revenge. The thought terrified me, gripping my heart with icy fingers.

When I reached home, I barely managed to hold myself together. I paced my room, trying to process everything. I had to know for sure.

After what felt like hours, I finally gathered the courage to take a test. I watched in a daze as the two lines appeared, clearer than any words could say. I was pregnant.

"No, no, no," I whispered, panic flooding my veins. "This can't be happening."

I sank to the floor, my back against the cool wall, tears streaming down my face. I envisioned a tiny baby, innocent and unaware of the darkness surrounding us. But how could I raise a child in a world where gang violence lurked around every corner? The thought was suffocating.

What would I tell Tyler? How could I possibly navigate this on my own? The idea of raising a child without him—especially if he was hell-bent on revenge—was unimaginable.

I could feel my world spiraling, fear gripping my heart. I needed to make a choice, and I had to do it soon. The life I wanted for my child had to be away from all of this.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone, hesitating as I hovered over Tyler's name. I had to talk to him, but what if he couldn't understand? What if he only saw me as an obstacle in his quest for vengeance?

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. I had to reach out, had to confront the truth. If Tyler wouldn't listen to me about the dangers he faced, how could I expect him to understand the stakes of bringing a child into that life?

With a heavy heart, I typed out a message, hoping against hope that he would still care enough to hear me.

We need to talk. I can't do this alone.

I hit send, the weight of my decision settling over me like a thick fog. I didn't know what the future held, but I had to fight for my child's life—whatever that meant.