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“Are you okay?” Cassie asked when I came out of the bathroom. “You look like you’ve been crying.”
“Charlie fired me,” I said simply. “Well, I guess he technically didn’t fire me, but he encouraged me to leave. Because of the baby.”
“Oh, my God, Danna,” Cassie said, shock clear on her face. “You know you can sue him, right? What are you going to do?”
“Work the rest of the week like he said, and then I’ll figure it out,” I said. “I’m not going to sue, because I just can’t take on any more stress. I don’t want to talk about it right now, or I’ll cry again, and I have tables.”
Cassie gave a slight tilt of her head, and we carried on working side by side.
I wasn’t going to miss this hell hole. Charlie was an ass, the shifts were long and hard for minimum wage. Working as a waitress in a diner had never been my dream. No little girl dreamed about wiping dirty tables and catering to fussy patrons who barely tipped if the food wasn’t five-star quality, which it never was. But it paid the bills, and I’d been saving toward something better.
I hadn’t decided what thatsomething betterwould be when I’d started saving, but now… it would all have been washed down the drain, anyway.
I would miss Cassie and the others, though. I’d miss the simplicity and the stability of a life that was slipping through my fingers, fast. Everything was changing. I’d been able to ignore what was going on until now, but I had to admit that things weren’t what they used to be and face the future head-on. It was the only way I’d be able to do this.
* * *
When I got homeafter my last day at the diner, I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn’t morning sickness; it was panic. I had no idea how I was going to get through the next couple of months, the birth, doing it all on my own.
I sat down with my bank statements and tried to figure out which way I could turn. I’d been dipping into my savings for doctor’s appointments and maternity wear, and I hadn’t had all that much to start off with.
Someone knocked on my door, and when I opened it, Cassie stood there. She held out a takeaway cup of coffee.
“It’s decaf,” she said.
“You’re a saint.” I took the coffee from her and let her in.
She put her bag on my couch and sat down next to it. I sat down on an armchair. I didn’t have much by way of furniture—I’d picked up these two pieces from a secondhand store, but it was better than nothing.
I’d always gotten by, I could do it again, right?
“I just wanted to check in,” she said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I said. My eyes welled with tears, but I blinked them away, refusing to cry. I scrubbed my face with my hands. “I don’t know how I’ll figure this out, but I don’t have much of a choice.”
“You’re going to be okay,” Cassie said.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re a survivor. You’re not the type to give up. You’ll figure out a way around this. I just wish I could help.”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that to yourself. Really, I know how it is for you. You have yourself to look after.”
Without any family, I really had nowhere to turn. I could only rely on myself. Cassie understood. Neither of us had had it very easy the last couple of years. The last thing I wanted was for Cassie to take money out of her meager savings and try to help me in some way.
A pang of resentment shot into my chest. She’d slept with both those guys that night I’d gone home with Wesley. Apparently, she did it more often—she’d gone home with a lot of guys after going out dancing like that. She’d done it time and time again, and she’d never gotten pregnant, not even the times they’d been so drunk they hadn’t used protection.
I’d done it one time,withprotection, and I’d fallen pregnant right off the bat.
It’s not her fault. It’s no one’s fault.
And Cassie was right to go out and enjoy herself however she wanted, so I know my thought process was unfair to her.
“How long can you manage with your savings?” Cassie asked.
I sighed. “It’s enough to carry me to when the baby arrives, but after that… I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“Do you know what it is, yet?” she asked.
