Page 69 of Three Months Yesterday

The silence this time is different. Weighted with a decision impossible to make.

“I never wanted kids,” Mark says, his voice careful and measured.

“I know,” I whisper.

“We talked about that when we broke up,” he continues like I never said anything. “And even with this news…nothing’s changed. There isn’t some deep-seated part of me that’s been buried and is now uncovered because you’ve told me I’m going to be a father. I don’t feel that. I’m not sure I ever will.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me.

I’m not surprised. He’s right, we talked about what a future would look like if we stayed together. It was probably one of the most honest conversations we ever had. One that happened as everything about us was falling apart. He was clear about what he wanted—what he didn’t want. I didn’t fault him for his honesty then, and I won’t fault him now.

“I understand,” I tell him, meaning it with all that I am.

“You’re not…you’re not angry?”

“No.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “We didn’t plan this. I didn’t expect it to change anything about our situation. I just didn’t feel right keeping this from you. You deserve to know you’re going to have a son.”

“It’s a boy?” he asks, a hint of wonder in his tone.

“Yeah, it’s a boy.” The smile on my lips surprises me, but it feels right. Being excited about the life I’m growing.

There’s another pause, less charged this time. More like the comfortable silences we used to share back when we were still us.

“Are you happy?” It’s such a simple question, but it’s more loaded than he realizes.

I think I’m still in shock more than anything else, but underneath all of that uncertainty, there’s a new warmth inside me that wasn’t there before, and I don’t know what else to call it other than happiness.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’m happy.”

“Good.”

Although the news of my pregnancy was shrouded in shock and the trauma of my fall, there was still an innate shift that happened within me when I found out I was pregnant. My life came into sharper focus with a new purpose. The realization that I’ll be forever responsible for loving and protecting another human being bloomed in my heart, and I feel that sense of purpose now.

My mind has been swirling with a myriad of thoughts since the moment I saw my son on that screen. And now, with the definitive knowledge that Mark doesn’t want to have a part in this baby’s life, I know I have to ask the tough questions because the what ifs of life are simply too unpredictable to ignore.

What if something happens to me? Would Mark have to take the baby or could I be prepared to have someone else raise him?

What if something happened to the baby? Would I have to consult Mark to make any decisions?

I hate that’s where my mind went. I don’t want to hurt him, but I think—in the long run—it’s what’s best for everyone.

I close my eyes, afraid to ask the question that’s been floating through my mind, but force the words out anyway. “If I had the paperwork drawn up, would you…would you be willing to sign your rights away?”

I hear him swallow, but his words are clear when he speaks. “Is that what you want?”

“I think it’s what’s best. Not that you need it from me, but it would protect you from ever worrying about child support or anything.”

“I’m not worried about that,” he rushes to say.

Silence descends, and I don’t know what to say to break it. If it’s even my place to say anything right now.

“I don’t want you to judge me for making this decision.” He exhales, long and shaky.

“Never,” I promise, the word fierce and immediate. “I’d never judge you, Mark. We both know what we want—or don’t want. This doesn’t change that.”

“Thank you,” he whispers.

There’s another pause, this one filled with a finality I didn’t feel when he left, but hurts more than I thought it would.