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The tightness in Anne’s chest cut off her oxygen. Her vision blurred. The parking lot began to spin. She braced herself against the building wall. Did Jason really say that? Get an abortion?
What was she thinking? Did she really expect Jason to embrace fatherhood with welcome arms?
In retrospect, there had been too many red flags.
Jason didn’t have a full-time job or his own apartment. He was a mama’s boy, living off his parents in their basement.
She overlooked it initially because he claimed to be saving money—for them. Now she knew why she split the bill with him when they went out. Ha! What a crock. He lied. Anne saw that now.
What did trusting him to tell the truth say about her?
Was she too willing to give up on what she considered the perfect man just to say she had a boyfriend?
Apparently, yes.
Jason MacIntire was a cowardly, irresponsible, disloyal, disgusting human being.
Having a child out of wedlock hadn’t been anything that ever crossed her mind.
Anne’s stomach lurched. She ran to the bathroom and hurled last night’s dinner. With nothing left in her stomach, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. What was she going to do now? She didn’t want to burden her parents, who scrimped and saved to send her to college. Sure, they would be disappointed, but they’d never disown her.
Even with grants and her work, she barely made enough to cover her tuition, board, and books. Money would be tight. With a baby coming, she’d have to find a full-time job. Her part-time employment with the little convenience store down the street wouldn’t cover her expenses, let alone the hospital bill, a bigger apartment, day care, diapers, or… or…
Oh God. Anne’s stomach churned, and she vomited again. Getting pregnant before she graduated was not part of her long-term plan. Hell, it wasn’t even part of her short-term plan. She dreamed of finishing her master’s degree and teaching kindergarten here in Florida. She was at a loss whether she could achieve it.
Anne stared at her disheveled reflection in the mirror. Her blond hair looked stringy and unkempt. The dark circles under her eyes made her look like a raccoon. Nothing could be done about that. She splashed her face with water, gargled with mouthwash, and got back in bed, all the while crying big, ugly crocodile tears.
She wondered why she ended up with men who only wanted a good time.
It was her fault for being too trusting.
Anne believed Jason when he told her he worked nights and weekends. She believed him when he called to say something came up and he canceled dates.
She believed and trusted the wrong man again.
Never again. She vowed to be wiser about men in the future.
Jason was now in the column of losers she dated.
Maybe she was a sucker for a good pickup line and a cute guy. However, she wanted what her mother and sister had. A loyal man. A man she could trust and who told the truth. Someone who put her first and could make her laugh. Was that too much to ask?
Anne took a deep breath. Her life plan needed a major adjustment. She would have this baby. She would secure her teacher’s certificate, find a job, save a little money, and eventually marry the right guy who loved her and wanted children—someone she could trust.
The sun shone through her window and heated her face. Anne groaned. Why was the day bright and cheery? Shouldn’t it be gray and raining? Shouldn’t thunder and lightning shake the ground, promising hell and damnation and maybe shriveling Jason’s dick so this never happened to another woman?
One could only hope.
The room she’d lovingly decorated now looked garish and sad—not unlike the way she felt. An eerie silence replaced echoes of laughter. She glanced at a picture of her parents holding her on their second anniversary. Their smiles and looks of love told a story—a story of love and trust, one she’d never have now.
Anne reached out with trembling hands to grab the last Kleenex. She stared at the empty box—empty like her life—and tossed it on the ground. She blew her nose and was repulsed by the sounds of wet snot. Flinging the disgusting tissue into the wastebasket along with the thousand other tissues, she wiped the tears away and looked at her watch.
Great. Now she’d be late for class—no more time to feel sorry for herself.
Anne groaned as she dragged herself up for another trip to the bathroom, this time to shower, brush her teeth, and get dressed. She pulled on her favorite black leggings and a blue-striped top. The outfit always made her think cheery thoughts. However, the outfit wouldn’t fit her in another couple of months. Anne added new clothes to her growing list of future needs.
She piled her hair into a messy bun and added a touch of mascara and lip gloss, then fingered the antique ruby necklace her mother gave her when she graduated college.
Anne’s grandmother had given it to her mother when she graduated and became a teacher. Her mother claimed it was for luck and good fortune.
