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The thought hit me: what if I am pregnant?
If Mom found out, she would definitely force me back to Liam.
I hadn't spoken to her after the hospital scene.
In my childhood’s memory, my dad had cheated for countless times.
My parents fought constantly since I was in elementary school.
Smashed dishes. Broken furniture.
I once begged her to leave.
I didn't need a broken home pretending to be a whole.
She'd glare at me, "After all I've done? Divorce? Over my dead body!"
Dad died of a stroke later. Mom cried louder than anyone at the funeral.
I didn't understand back then.
How could human’s feelings be so messy?
Didn't she hate him? Why was she crying as if she had lost her love?
And for now when I faced a similar betrayal, why was she pushing me to forgive?
My emotions spiraled. Tears fell hot and fast.
Biting my lips hard, I bowed my head. I didn’t want anyone to see me crying.
The nurse called my name.
I took a breath, wiped my face and walked calmly into the exam room.
After blood tests and an ultrasound, the doctor told me about the results,
"You're pregnant. You need to rest more. I'll prescribe prenatal vitamins. Have your partner take you to set up your OB-GYN records; you'll need regular checkups—"
"Doctor, I don't want this child."
She paused and looked up over her glasses.
"I'm not married. I don't want this child. Please schedule the abortion as soon as possible."
