About (Harry Styles)

70.

Songs:

Daughter - John Mayer

"I'm pregnant ..With Chris' baby. And I'm not going to get an abortion like you want me to. I'm going to have this baby. I don't care if you think I'm ruining my life. Because I know I'm not.  Only I know what's best for me.  Even though I'm not ready to be a mom, I'm willing to carry the burdens and face the consequences of being one. And if you don't want a bastard as your grandchild, I suggest you walk out that door .. right now."

I thought it would have to come down to yelling and shouting at one another, but surprisingly, it was that easy.  She didn't say anything.  And when she was silent, I knew she was beyond furious. I could see how angry she was with me.  But behind the livid anger in her crystal, blue eyes, there was a profound disappointment.  And that hurt me more than the anger did.

I was never a good daughter.  My grades weren't high, my lack of interest to pursue the career she wanted for me.  I wasn't anything like she had hoped I'd be... And I can't even apologize for that.  I won't apologize for who I am.

I'd even understand if she decides to forget she even had a daughter after today. 

After my mother and her husband left, I cried for what seemed like hours.  A part of me was glad she was gone.  I wouldn't have to put up with her nonsense remarks about him or anything else.  I wouldn't have to go back there.  But there was this relentless part of me, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, that knew I would miss her. 

Chris comes in shortly after.  He doesn't say anything to me right away nor do I.  I'm actually surprised that he was still even here.   I hear the legs of the chair scrape across the floor closer to the bed. His forearms rest on the side of my bed, keeping his hands clasped together as his thumbs roll in gentle circles as if he's thinking about making an important decision.

"How are you?" Chris asks.  And for the first time in a long time, I feel as though the question is sincere.

"Okay," I try to smile.

"You know, you look better like this."

I furrow my brows, confused. 

"Like what?"  I pinch the oversized lime green shirt I was changed into.  "In scrubs"

"No," he shakes his head slightly.  "No makeup.  You look a lot younger."

Was that a compliment? From Chris?

Not knowing how to reply, I only force on a smile again.

"So ... I'm the father, huh?"

A chuckle manages to escape my throat, but the pang of loss is still buried deep in my heart.  It's too soon to be laughing.  The guilt I feel about lying to my mother, and about leaving him, and about not going to say goodbye to my best friend, is all too great to ignore.

"Sorry about that," I seldomly say. "I don't mean to drag you on. It just sorta slipped out. It was the only way to get her to leave."

"You need to tell him."

"Tell who what?"

"Don't play dumb. The father of your child.  You need to tell him," he adamantly insists again.