Need you | Miles Fairchild

25 | decisions

Miles stood up so fast the coffee table rattled.

"Y/n—" he started, panic flashing across his face.

I laughed. It came out wrong. Broken. Like something sharp had lodged in my throat.
"So this is where you ran off to," I said, wiping my cheeks angrily. "Not work. Not space. Her couch."

Rebecca spun toward him. "You told me you were done with her."

My chest tightened. "Done with me?"

Alice stepped forward, arms crossed, eyes blazing. "Wow. You didn't even wait a full day."

Miles ran a hand through his hair, pacing. "It's not what it looks like."

"That's funny," I snapped. "Because it looks exactly like what it is."

Alice scoffed. "You're the one who said you didn't want the baby. Maybe—"

Rebecca faltered, glancing between us. "What baby?"

Miles froze.

I felt something inside my chest snap clean in half.

"You didn't tell her?" I whispered.

Miles' face drained of colour. "I— I didn't think it was my place—"

"My place?" I repeated incredulously. "I'm carrying it, Miles. I'm the one bleeding and panicking and falling apart while you're playing house."

Rebecca took a step back. "You said she was exaggerating. You said she was trying to trap you."

Alice let out a sharp, humourless laugh. "Oh, that's rich."

Miles looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" I demanded. "Because from where I'm standing, you walked out on me the second things got hard."

Silence hung heavy in the room.

Rebecca folded her arms defensively. "I didn't know she was pregnant."

I turned to her slowly. "But you knew I existed."

She didn't answer.

"I asked you to stay," I said to Miles, my voice quieter now. "I didn't ask you to fix anything. I just asked you not to leave me alone with this."

He swallowed hard. "I was scared."

"So was I."

The words felt final.

I wiped my face again, suddenly exhausted. "I'm done," I said. "I can't keep breaking myself to make this make sense."

Miles stepped toward me. "Please. Just let me explain."

"There's nothing left to explain," I replied. "You already made your choice."

Alice opened the door without waiting. "Come on. Let's go."

I paused at the threshold, looking back at Miles one last time. He looked smaller somehow. Like someone I didn't recognise anymore.

"I hope it was worth it," I said quietly.

Then I walked out.

⸻

The car ride home was silent.

The streetlights blurred as tears finally came freely, no longer restrained. Alice pulled over halfway down the road and turned to face me.

"You didn't deserve that," she said firmly.

"I know," I whispered. "That's what hurts the most."

She reached across the console and squeezed my hand. "Whatever happens next—clinic, decisions, healing—you won't be alone."

I nodded, staring out the window as the night swallowed us whole.

And for the first time since I'd seen the test, I realised something terrifying and freeing all at once:

This was my life now.
And I was the only one who got to decide what happened next.

—

Sunlight stabbed through the blinds, harsh and unrelenting. I groaned, clutching my pillow like it could somehow shield me from reality. The events of last night—Miles, Rebecca, the apartment, Alice's car—played on an endless loop in my mind.

Alice was already awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. She looked up at me, expression soft but firm.

"Morning," she said.

I rubbed my face. My throat still hurt from all the screaming, from all the crying.

"We need to call the clinics," Alice reminded me gently.

I swallowed hard. "Yeah... yeah, we do."

We spent the next thirty minutes making calls. The first clinic couldn't see me until the end of the week. The second had an appointment tomorrow afternoon. Alice was calm, efficient, handling everything like a pro, while I barely managed to speak.

"This one's sooner," she said, holding out her phone. "Tomorrow. That's good."

I nodded mutely. Good. That was good. But my stomach twisted anyway.

"What about Miles?" I asked quietly, though I didn't really want to hear the answer.

Alice shook her head. "Let him deal with his own mess. Today is about you."

I looked down at the test still sitting on the counter, paper edges curling slightly, and felt a cold wave wash over me. It didn't feel like my life anymore. It felt like someone else's story that I'd been thrown into unwillingly.

"I hate him," I muttered.

Alice reached over and squeezed my hand. "You're allowed to hate him. But don't let it make your choice for you. You get to decide what's next."

I took a shaky breath. "Yeah... okay."

We hung up the phones and sat in silence for a moment, letting the gravity of the morning settle over us.

Then Alice nudged me gently. "Come on. Let's grab breakfast before your appointment. You need something in your stomach."

I let her pull me toward the door. I wasn't ready to face Miles. I wasn't ready to face Rebecca. I wasn't ready to face anyone except Alice. And for now, that had to be enough.

Outside, the morning felt like a different world. The sunlight was no longer harsh—it was just light. And maybe that was a start.

A start toward deciding for myself.

I knew what I wanted to do.