This is life.

75 ➤ Contemplation leads to complication

---PLEASE READ THE A/N AT THE END IF YOU DON'T MIND---

It's the following Sunday that Michael visits me one last time in my room. "Don't hesitate to contact me, I'm always here for a friend." I tell him. "Thanks. I'll send you an invite soon for Rachel's funeral. It should be some time next week." "Okay. I'll be there." He hugs me briefly before saying goodbye, and I envy the fact that he is given permission to leave. I'm sure my time will come soon, just not soon enough. I've spoken to Chanel only on the first day of being here, these past few days I haven't spoken to her. I've been stuck in my room. Minimal human contact isn't what bothers me, it's more so the fact that I'm not allowed to move. It's quite annoying.

Alex visited my apartment and has brought my phone and laptop to me once he was aware of where I am. I make sure to do as much work as I can in my state, even though Alex insists I rest and that my laptop and phone were only brought to me for entertainment, not for work.

Balderdash.

As he hands me my items I notice he has a small brown paper bag. "I got you a choc-chip cookie." He holds it above my hand, ready for me to take. "A cookie? Seriously? Whats a cookie meant to do?" I ask rhetorically. He shrugs. "I know you have a big sweet tooth and I know that there's not much I can do. I'm just trying to cheer you up, even if it's only by a little bit." He takes it out of the bag and it stares at me teasingly. "Give me the cookie." I take it from his hands and begin to eat it without a thought in mind. I may develop gestational diabetes however I doubt that it's likely.

♛

I use my laptop to check sales done in the shop during my time away for a few hours whilst doing other things to divert my attention before a noise earns my time. I look up and bite my tongue softly. "Hi." I say with a questioning tone. At my door I see Jason dressed casually in a black t-shirt and brown shorts. I keep on forgetting it is almost summer. Jason held crutches under each arm and made his way over to my bed. I close the laptop before putting it aside. "How's your leg? Are you able to walk now?" "One day at a time." I quote the doctor's words. "Should be alright to walk pretty soon." "That makes one of us." He humoured. "And you? How's your knee?" I redirect a question to him. "Still shattered. But I'm getting used to the pain."
"Why are you here?" "I got discharged." He tells me. "That's great. Doesn't explain why you're in my room, though." He sighs at my bitterness. "Can't I come to see you?" "I didn't ask for you to go out of your way and visit me, did I?" I repeat his words from our last argument with resentment. "You're going to hold that against me?" He says with a scoff. "Well you hold a lot of things against me so it's only fair." I remark. Silence fills the room before I decide to act decently towards him. "Are you going back to LA?" He shakes his head. "No. I've been asked by a detective to stay here for when I'm needed." "And you just agreed?" I asked with amazement. "You've never been the willing type."

"I'm not. But I've always been willing to compromise, you know that. If I'm needed for something important who am I to refuse? I've already had some of my work sent to me within the last few days so I'll work here in my penthouse. My family wants to be around me so they're staying as well." "Was this detective's name Benson, by any chance?" He answers with a yes. "Fuck off, will you?" I mutter under my breath. "Pardon?" "Nothing." I say quickly. "How long until you're able to be released?" He questioned. "Maybe less than a week. Doctor Tran said I'm expected to be stable enough in a few days." "How are you?" "That's a pretty general question. You're asking a lot of them. If you want consistent answers you're going to have to be more specific." I tell him. "Let me rephrase my question, then. What are your plans with your baby?" My breath hitches slightly and I hear my heart rate gradually rise on the machine. "I don't think I have an option. The risks of getting an abortion at this point is scary. For me to ever try and have children in the future with a body that's as damaged as mine is as close to zero. I wouldn't hold my breath." "What are you saying, Britney?" My throat becomes dry. This was the question I have been dreading.