So. Long(180)

Mo pushes past me, back into the bathroom. I’m not even a full stride behind her. “I’m not leaving.”

She tries to close the door, but I wedge my foot in just in time. I push it open, and she backs up to the edge of the tub, shooting daggers with her eyes. Then they dart to the counter top. That stick she had earlier lays there.

Mo lunges for the stick, but I beat her to it, holding it above my head. Why would she want this so bad? “What is it?”

She holds out her hand. “Nothing. It’s mine. None of your business. Give it to me.”

I step back and glance at what I’ve got. Just a plastic thing a little bigger than a thermometer. I turn it over. The oval screen screams one word. I read it aloud. “Pregnant.”

She throws her hands up with a loud exhale. Pushing past me out the door, she mumbles. “Great.”

I follow her into the bedroom where she pushes open the window and pops out the screen.

“Is this yours?” I ask, unable to think of anything else to say.

She stoops over the load of crap she’s piled in the floor, grabbing an armload. “No. It’s the mail lady’s baby. Asshole.”

Baby.

Holy fuck. Our baby?

The images I had before flash back into my mind. The smile that pushes up my cheeks comes out of nowhere and can’t be contained. Even when Mo throws my shit out the window it stays put.

I cross my arms and nod. “We’re having a baby. Oh my, God. This is—”

She throws me a look. “This is terrible. Tragic. A travesty. And we aren’t doing anything. I am. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” What does that mean?

She tosses the second half of my stuff out onto the lawn. “I haven’t made any decisions yet. I need time to think.”

The smile slides off my face to join my stomach on the floor at my feet.

“Think? What’s there to think about? It’s our baby. You wouldn’t—” I swallow hard and shut my fucking mouth before I push her to make a rash decision.

“I’m not sure. Knowing you’re a douche who’d video me without my knowledge or consent doesn’t exactly make me think having your baby is a good idea. I’m not convinced I want to be tied to you for the rest of my freaking life. All I know right now is you need to go. Go far, far away.”

My hands fall limp at my sides while my throat tightens. In one fell swoop my entire dream for the future has been swept out from under me. The backs of my eyes burn.

I take a deep breath. “I’ll clear out. But I did not put that camera there. And I’m not giving up on us, Mo. I won’t. I can’t.”





Danny took every trace of himself when he left.

Everything except the tiny life inside me.

I cross my arms and double over, curling into a ball as I drop my face into my pillow. The tears come from warm eyes, coursing over hotter cheeks. Humiliation bears down, leaving me with nothing but shame and hard choices to be made.

How could he do it? Why would he think it was okay? Do I have stupid written on my forehead? After the ordeal with that idiot Paul, I would never have imagined Danny could do something like this. But he did. There’s no other explanation.

My rage fades with the light. Night falls as I stare into an empty corner of my room. My eyes have dried, but my skin aches and my heart cringes with every shaky breath.

I whisper, “Oh, little baby, I’m so sorry I chose badly. I really messed up, didn’t I?”

The smile Danny wore when he realized I’m pregnant…any other time that smile would’ve lifted me to the heights of heaven, but it wasn’t any other time—it was today.

After I found that surveillance equipment.

After I learned what a douche he really is.

After my world crashed around me.

Now all I can do is pick up all the slivers and shards, put them in a paper sack to piece together another day, and get on with it. I sit up, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and pull my shoulders back. I’ve seen plenty of women who’ve got it worse than me.

I’m not completely broke. I’ve saved some money. It’s not optimal timing, but life rarely throws a soft ball. At least, not my life.

All I need to do is find a place to call home. Because I sure can’t live here, not without knowing whether there are other cameras hiding, watching, recording my every move.





I can’t face Danny’s parents, so I send an email to Charlotte explaining I feel it’s time for me to get out on my own. I’ve managed to avoid her and Dave, though I’m not sure exactly how.

I load some of my clothes into the back of my car. I don’t have any furniture to speak of. No dishes, not too many knick-knacks. Moving turns out to not be such a big deal.