𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 • 𝕞.𝕔

chapter 6

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   Three weeks. Three whole weeks since I'd gotten the verdict from the doctor. I didn't want to believe it; everything I could find to refute the idea that another human being was growing slowly inside of me was very important. As wrong as it was. I didn't want this. I wasn't ready for it. I couldn't even take care of myself, how could I ever take care of a baby?

I wanted to feel like I could be strong, so bad, and that I could handle this well, like an adult would, but no, the truth was that I was stuck here, pregnant, and not even from somebody I wanted to have a family with. Pregnant from a stupid one night stand. Pregnant with a randomer's baby.  Had it been worth it? Had it, honestly? I was disappointed in myself. I'd stooped so low by doing this, and now, there truly was no going back.

   I felt desperate when I tried to recall the memories of that night. Yes, it'd felt good. Yes, I had enjoyed my time with him. But was he my kind of man? Certainly not. Was he the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? No. And most of all, would he take care of the baby when I'd announce him that it was his?

I doubted it.

   And that was the worst part of it all. I was angry. At myself, most of all, but also at that tiny little life than was inside of me now. I didn't want it here. I wanted to make it go away. There was a constant conflict inside of my brain. I wanted to keep it, but I didn't want to. I couldn't, but maybe, I could. I was in great distress, and this was painful. I felt drained and regretful, terribly blurred. One side of me was telling me I could do it; that everything would turn out fine, but then the other side would take over and repeat that I was worthless and that I was a slut who got pregnant from boys at parties. I tried to shake these thoughts away, but they would be here every day, threatening me, leaving me barely enough space to breathe. As if they were drowning me slowly, but surely.

   The worst part of it all was when I thought about my carrier, and my future. I had gotten a fucking job, damn it. And now? Would I have to throw all of this away? I knew my job wouldn't be pleased about it. My dream was being put on hold right before my eyes. I guessed this was fate, wasn't it? Karma, how did they call it? Maybe it would be a good thing. Maybe I could turn that into something positive. But as I sat there, biting my nails and staring down at my phone, I knew that there was nothing positive about this at all. And quite honestly, that was what I was most frightened about.

I finally gathered enough courage to grab my phone a second later, looking into the list of contacts. I had to do this, right? I had to call him. I had to let him know the great mistake we had made. That we were both too foolish and irresponsible to even realise that we hadn't even put on a damn condom. How easy was that? And we had skipped it. I felt my heart speed up a little when I pressed onto his name, and waited eagerly for him to answer. 

"Hello?" a hoarse voice answered. Shit, this was it.

I stood up and started walking back and forth in my living-room. "Michael?"

"Yeah, it's me?"

"It's Lee," I muttered. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"Lee who?" he cleared his throat. "And no, you're fine, I've been awake for... A while."

I bit my lip. "We slept together a few weeks ago, you might not remember. I wanted to know if you'd agree to... Like, if you have nothing planned, I'd like to see you soon."

There was a silence for a few seconds. "Yeah, that's fine. Mine or yours?"

"It'd be great if we could meet somewhere else," I added. "I know it sounds weird. But... Please."

"Alright," he said. "Just text me the address and I'll be there. I'll see you later."