I got drunk-married in Vegas to a man I’ve spent the last two years hating.
And if that wasn’t bad enough,I'm pregnant.
Single motherhood, here I come.
I know she’ll be disappointed I’m repeating her mistakes, and honestly I am a little bit, too.
The words, though, they stick in my throat when I see the Pride pin on her lapel, the one she's worn since I came out as bisexual in college. The one that represents her unwavering support of my choices, even when they weren't the ones she would have made. How can I tell her I've done exactly what she warned me against—let a man derail the future I've worked so hard to build?
Not that it's his fault. I made my choices. But I don’t think she’ll see it that way.
"It's just business stuff," I say instead, pulling my hand away to wipe at my eyes. "A contract dispute that might get messy and it’s got me really stressed."
My mother studies me for a long moment, clearly not buying it, but thankfully doesn't push. "All right. But remember what I've always told you?—"
"No man is worth sacrificing your ambitions for," I recite, the mantra she's repeated since I was old enough to understand what ambition even was.
"Exactly." She nods approvingly. "Men come and go, but what you build for yourself lasts."
If only she knew how catastrophically those two things were colliding in my life right now.
"I know, Mom," I mumble. "I remember."
“And if worse comes to worst, you can always get Kieran to help out.”
The rest of lunch passes with safer topics and I manage to get down enough to my salad to be convincing. By the time we part outside the restaurant, I've almost convinced myself I can handle this. Almost.
"Call me if you need anything," she says, kissing my cheek. "And for god's sake, get some rest. You look like the walking dead."
"I will," I say with a weak smile.
Two hours later, alone in my apartment, I sit cross-legged on my bed, staring at the folder from Dr. Walker. I've read through every pamphlet, every option, but I'm no closer to a decision than I was this afternoon.
Could I reallynotkeep this baby?
I let my hand slowly drift down to rest on my stomach. There’s apersonin there right now growing and I wonder what they’ll look like.Whothey’ll look like.
All I know is that before I decide anything, I need to tell Kasen. He deserves to know, even if the thought of telling him makes me want to throw up again.
Or maybe that's just the morning-slash-all day sickness. Hard to tell at this point.
I pull out my phone and open his text from earlier.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I type a response:
Me: Tomorrow. 7pm. Your brewery.
His reply comes almost immediately:
Kasen: I'll be there.
I flop back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling, wishing it held all the answers. Hell, I’d even settle for just one answer at this point.
"It's gonna be fine," I whisper to myself.
But for the first time in my life, I'm not sure I believe it.
Shit. I'm gonna be adding another goddamn tattoo to my collection.
