I sat on the swing, staring at the river. There was really nothing else I could do but stare. I'd trusted, and as usual, everything had gone wrong.
"I love you."
The breathy words seem to ring in my ears. I can still feel the touch of his hands on my face, on my back. The places where his lips touched burn. I remember him pulling my shirt off. I remember the sound of his belt coming undone...
"I don't want to do this."
This time his voice was rough, angry, as if it was all my fault that we were in this situation.
I look down at the picture in my hands. It's not exactly a picture. It's one of those print offs the ultra-sound technicians give you. It's really clear. Not like the ones my mum has of shapeless blobs she claims to be me. It's two perfect feet.
My baby.
I'd always wanted to have a baby, but I'd never been that fussed on having a guy around. I wanted to be able to bring my kid up exactly how I wanted with no interference, but now, I'd have given anything not to have to go through this along.
Because I am alone.
Completely and utterly alone...
