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Forty minutes later, we arrive at the small brown building with a white sign that reads On Your Timing Parenthood.
Reading the sign, Spencer's eyes widen as she places the car in park and shifts to face me, her brown eyes as wide as saucers. "An abortion clinic?!" she yells, shaking her head in disapproval. I cringe at the word; it sounds so aggressive and dirty when it shouldn't. There is nothing wrong with terminating a pregnancy. All women should be able to have the choice regarding their bodies.
"I can't have a baby, Spencer. One day I'll start a family when the time is right, but right now is not the time. I want to finish high school, go to college, and start my own business. How can I do any of that with a baby at fifteen?" Warm tears stream down my face. "I'm just a kid, Spencer, a kid who shouldn't have a kid." Her face matches mine, eyes red from crying, nose stuffy, and running. "I want to be a kid and grow up first. I don't want to be a mother right now." I don't regret my night of passion with Dean, but I regret not being more careful. I was on my pill and thought that would be all the protection we'd need. I now understand why parents say not to have sex until you're older.
"You are so strong for making this decision all by yourself. If you're sure this is what you want, I will support you and hold your hand. Are you positive this is what you want?" I nod, wiping away my tears and snot with the back of my hand.
"I'm positive. This is what I want." Without another word, she grabs my backpack from the backseat and leads me inside the clinic hand in hand.
We're greeted by the dark-skinned woman sitting behind the front desk with a friendly smile. Her brown scrubs blend perfectly with her beautiful skin tone. "Hello ladies, how can I help you today?"
"H-h-hi," I stammer, my hands shaking, more nervous than I've ever been. "I'm pregnant, and I can't have a baby." Her brown eyes are sympathetic and comforting.
"I understand, sweetheart. My name is Polly, and we'll take great care of you today." She helps me through the paperwork, and Spencer lists herself as my emergency contact and even pays for the service.
After everything is completed, Polly takes me back to a room that resembles any other exam room I've been in before. She explains everything to me in detail, no matter how graphic. I'm nervous, but at least I know what to expect now, thanks to her.
Spencer couldn’t come into the room with me, but Polly, to my surprise, holds my hand the entire time.
Once it is over, Spencer brings me the backpack that contains extra clothes and helps me change into the loose-fitting sweatpants and sweatshirt I have brought. She helps me to the car and drive us home in silence.
Just like that, I am no longer pregnant and am determined to achieve every single goal I have set for myself, determined to do it in memory of my child. I feel guilty enough. The last thing I needed was to do what I did and not make my dreams come true. I did what I did for a reason.
I did what I felt was right, and once we arrive home, I never spoke about it again.
FORTY
NOW
Dean
Two months.
It’s been two months since I’ve seen her—two long, painful, horrific months.
Every day we are apart reminds me of how truly unhappy I am without her and how unhappy I am in my marriage. I thought I'd be able to stay with Karina for the sake of our child, but I realize that a child isn’t a reason to stay in a marriage. A child doesn’t save a broken marriage, no matter how much Karina wishes it does. She’s four months along, meaning we still have a long and dreadful five months ahead of us.
Although it may not seem like it, I’m truly grateful that our baby is doing good and is healthy. Karina is still fearful that something terrible will happen, which is understandable given our history, so I stay with her. It’s the least I can do after being a cheating piece of shit.
I’ve completely moved into the guest room, and we only speak when it involves the baby. We’re roommates at this point, and it kills me that I’m here while my heart is living on the other side of the city, all alone.
While at lunch with my mother a couple of weeks ago, she told me that Camille and Declan were getting a divorce, and he had moved back to New York, confirming what I already knew. My mom is a very intuitive person, she knew something was going on with me.
Unable to lie to her, I told her everything. I told her about Camille and me rekindling our flame and having an affair. She wasn’t happy, but she didn’t curse me out and judge me like I half expected her to do. Instead, she hugged me and told me that she loved me and would support me in any decision I made regarding my future and the future of my marriage.
That’s my mother for you.
Supportive as fuck, even when I mess up.
I’m not proud to admit it, but I’ve driven by her apartment a few times, parking across the street or hiding away in the parking garage, hoping I’ll see her. I need to see her like I need my next breath.
I need to touch her warm, soft body, need to hold her in my arms and feel her relax against me and rest her head on my chest, need her plump lips against mine, but most of all, I need to be in her presence. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away and staying with Karina for the sake of our child, but I was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
To my luck, I did get to see Camille. Twice.
The first time, she was wearing sweats and looked utterly defeated. She kept her head down, and her dark hair covered her face like a curtain as if trying to hide from the world. She was a shell of the person she once was, and all I wanted to do was jump out of my car and go to her. To hold her in my arms and tell her how sorry I was for leaving her, for breaking her when I knew she was already fragile.
