Unexpected

Street Trash

He lowers himself into the seat with a shocked expression. It takes a few moments for him to compose himself and let words escape his lips.
“Go to your room and pack. I want you out by morning.”
My jaw drops. He’s got to be kidding.
“Are you serious? You’re going to kick me out?”
“I can’t have a pregnant woman working for me. I can’t have a baby being raised here when I am trying to work. I don’t want my maid running around here caring for a baby and keeping up with the house. There’s liability issues and I don’t want you trying to tempt me again.”
Oh. My. Freaking. God.
“I tempted you?! I didn’t start work that day thinking to myself, ‘Today I’m going to sleep with my boss and have him knock me up’! I didn’t want this baby in the first place! I’m not ready for a kid!”
“Then why did you allow me to sleep with you? You could have told me no.”
“And have you fire me on the spot? No thank you. I like having a job, a roof over my head, and food on my plate.”
“But was it worth it to get fired now?”
I’m beyond angry. This is ridiculous.
“Three months of pay I wouldn’t have had before? Hell yeah it was worth it. I just wish I didn’t have to carry around the baby of a selfish jerk for several more months!”
He slams his hands on the desk again, veins bulging in his neck.
“I will not have you disrespect me in my own house! I will not say this again, go to your room and pack up your belongings. Get out of my sight and never come back again!”
I turn to storm out of the room, grabbing onto the door handle before turning my head over my shoulder.
“If this is what you want, fine. I hope you enjoy knowing that you booted your own flesh and blood child out onto the streets.”
I slam the door, running to my room with tears streaming down my face. I close my bedroom door, locking it. I grab a duffel bag, shoving all my clothes inside without a care in the world. All my personal belongings. Two bags later and I’m ready to leave. I take my phone out of my pocket, calling a cab. Twenty minutes until arrival. Where am I going to go? Who am I going to live with? I’ve got ten thousand in rainy day cash that I’ve had stored in a shoebox. Pennies here, pennies there. Looks like it’s going to help me get by for the next who-knows-how-long. I bring my bags down the back stairs, setting them by the back door. I walk up to my bedroom for the last time. I take a photograph out of my pocket, setting it on the bed where I know it will be found. I leave the ultrasound image behind as I walk out of the Scotch mansion for the last time.