“I said hi.”
I look up and pretend to be stunned.
“Exactly. That’s all you said.”
“Well, I never know if you want to talk. You never text me or call me or reach out in any other way.”
“When I have something to share, I will. Otherwise, we don’t have much to talk about.”
“You don’t think we have much to talk about? Sydney, we’re having a baby together. I’d say we have a lot to talk about.”
“Well.” I toss my arms up and look around as if what I want to say is written in the clouds or on a sign somewhere. “I don’t have any new updates. What would we talk about?”
“I don’t know. Stuff.”
“Stuff? Like . . . how are your classes? How is work going? How’s the gym? How are your friends? What should we talk about? We don’t have to share everything together.”
I turn and start walking toward my next class. Mark is quickly at my side.
“I didn’t say we had to. I just—”
“Look, it’s like I told you when we found out I was pregnant, Mark. If you want to be a part of this baby’s life, great. If not, that’s fine too. I can do this on my own.”
Honestly, it broke my heart the day I told him, and he cried. My heart hurt even more in the weeks after. It wasn’t that I expected him to just leave his girlfriend and fall madly in love with me all because I was having his baby but watching him fight to win a woman back who wasn’t me stung. It was like a reminder that my future wouldn’t be the grand, carefree life I’d been hoping it would be one day. I finally realized that I would struggle forever. I’ll be a great mom, but I’ll struggle.
God, that’s depressing to think about.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sydney. I’m responsible for this too. I’m here.”
I stop and hold up my hand. “You’re here because you’re responsible?”
“Yeah.”
“Not because you want to be.”
“No. Yeah, I do. I am, I—”
“Am keeping me from getting to class? Yes, you are. Figure it out or don’t. I already told you this. I’d rather you leave me to do this on my own than for me or this baby to feel like an obligation to you.”
“That’s not even what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
He thinks for a moment, then grips the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I had this whole idea that I’d find you and we’d talk, and now I’m clearly saying the wrong things.”
I open my mouth to say something snappy because that’s just how it works for me these days, but his shoulders sag. I pause. I glance over at the man in front of me. His six-foot frame has always towered over me, but his typically clean-shaven facial hair is scruffier than normal. His black hair looks like it’s had hands tugging on it all day long, and the circles under his eyes are dark.
Despite everything, I feel bad for him.
We really were becoming good friends last semester. Until we messed it up.
Yes, my life is changing, but his is too. He clearly isn’t handling it as well as I am.
“I have to go.”
I walk past him, and he doesn’t even try to stop me.
I’m glad he doesn’t. Even though I held my own just now to show him that I’m capable of doing this on my own, on the inside I’m terrified of doing this alone.
