121 Weeks To Run

Chapter Twelve: Choices

Why didn't I see this coming?

I thought my parents had been one hundred percent honest with me when we were reunited. But it turns out, that was just wishful thinking on my part. I should have known there'd always be just one more thing in the Hastings' family closet. But a brother? As if having one brother wasn't enough. Especially considering all brothers did was cause problems. Just look at Rylan and Ryder, Owen, and now Chandler? I’m just waiting for the triplets to have brothers too. Then we could throw a shitty brother party.

I ignored the knock on my door, but it stayed consistent and persistent and when I finally had enough, I gave in.

"Fine! Come in!" I yelled toward the door although it was weak and disheveled. I was forced to deal with this revelation on my own and I wasn't sure if it was something I could handle. I was still trying to process the death of my husband, but it seemed like I wasn’t ever going to get closure. Not until people started telling the truth. Or stopped dying.

"May I come in?" My mom’s voice asked as the door slowly creaked open. I sighed heavily and shrugged. 

"Do I have a choice?" It was almost rhetorical. It was rare that Chelsey McGowan had a choice. It was always someone pulling me one way or another, or someone making choices for me.

"I won't take another choice from you, Chelsey. It's up to you whether or not you want to talk to me." She surrendered. I waived her in and she took a seat near my stomach. After putting her hand on her unborn grandchild, she gave me a sad smile.

"What happened to him, mom?" I felt so bad hearing his voice. Somehow filled with the sorrow of being forgotten and I could see why now. Everyone had brushed him under the rug. This was the first time I ever heard about him and he’s been dead for nearly thirteen years. I’d be sad too.

"I guess I should start from the beginning," She reasoned then mumbled something about thinking she'd take it to her grave. "After you were born, and we had to give you up, your dad and I had a really rough time patching things up. Even though we'd gotten married when I turned eighteen, it was a battle for us. We were like that one song... Um... Hot And Cold. We finally decided to be together for good, on my twenty-first birthday. Coincidently, a few days later I had to go to my yearly checkup. And two weeks before they took my blood so they could have it by my appointment. And the doctor looked really confused, asked me a bunch of questions, and asked me how many sex partners I'd had in the past four months and I remember thinking that was pretty specific. So I asked him about it, and he told me I was around a couple months pregnant, at least, considering the blood test I had three months prior to that came up negative and I gained some weight. And I just remember wanting to cry. Because all I could think was that, that baby was going to need to be taken from me too and I was just... I couldn't handle it. 

"Regardless, I told your dad and he was just... The most excited man you'd ever see. But it was as if I couldn't be excited. And I slipped into a depression and it was hard to take care of myself and the baby—Chandler. I just wanted to die so badly. But your dad stuck by me, he helped me through it and I can't thank him enough for that. 

"When you were around ten, Chandler was five; I remember it was the night of the Fourth of July. He had been playing in the front yard with his ball, while the older kids lit fireworks. It rolled out in the street and before I could grab it or him, a speeding drunk driver swerved off the road and hit him-" She stopped and then I noticed tears were rolling down both of our faces. But she kept going despite she was breaking down. I wasn’t sure if it was the hormones, or because I’m a mother, but I felt her pain. No one should have to lose a child.