My entire body hurts, and my chest feels heavy and uncomfortable.
God, what I would do for a hot shower right now.
To sit on the floor and allow my sorrow to disappear down the drain.
I roll to my side and groan, burying my face into the worn blanket I’ve started to loathe. It’s just this side of useful, but it’s not enough, and I have no idea if I’ll ever be warm again when I sleep.
A sharp tug in my abdomen pulls my attention from how shitty my sleeping situation is, and my stomach rolls with a fresh wave of anxiety.
Oh my god.
The doctor removed my birth control when I was in the middle of having a panic attack.
If I wasn’t confident that place wasn’t aboveboard before, I sure as hell am now.
I feel violated and sore between my thighs, and I just have to hope it was only a speculum to blame for it.
How long do I have before the hormones leave my system?
I try to think back to the pamphlet they gave me when I got it put in last year, but it all feels like a blur.
I just finished my period, which means I’ll ovulate in…two weeks?
Fuck. Why didn’t I pay more attention in sex education?
Probably because I was hardly ever there to avoid the teachers finding out that I was homeless.
I shove myself up into a sitting position and press my back to the wall behind me.
Before I got the IUD put in, the doctor explained that coming off any kind of hormonal birth control can bring on a period, so I might get lucky and have another month before I’m fertile.
The word has nausea rushing to the surface, and I have to swallow down the vomit that tries to escape.
One month before I could be pregnant with a man I hate.
I can’t bring a baby into this fucked-up situation. That wouldn’t be fair.
And god, what if it’s a girl? What if Lucas treats her badly? Or his men?
Nope.
Absolutely the fuck not.
No child of mine will be brought up in this environment.
A thought creeps in, one that has no place in my mind, but I allow the daydream to roll over me. I give myself a few moments of peace to think about what it would have been like if things were different.
If I’d never insisted on walking into that bar.
If Orion had never pushed open the door of the house that exploded.
Images of his hand on my swollen stomach, of his dark eyes lighting up at our first scan, of him cradling a tiny baby in his huge arms, staring down at them like he’d protect them from the world.
Emotions slam into me, and tears roll down my cheeks of their own accord.
I was so fucking stupid.
And now my greatest regret will always be all the things I never said.
