“You tried to call him again?” My mom stares at me, arms over her chest, concern etched in every damn line of her face.

She looks old. No doubt these past two weeks are the culprit enhancing that.

“I have. A ton of times. I’ve left messages. I’ve sent texts.”

“He hasn’t responded?”

“Kind of hard when he blocked my number.”

“How do you know that?” she asks, her cup of tea growing cold in front of her.

“Because now when I text, they don’t go through. When I call, it says the number isn’t available.” Coming to that realization didn’t hurt at all or anything.

“Huh,” she says. “What about his dad? You called him before—”

“No. Absolutely not. The man is a prick, and he’s only going to give me the same number that’s now blocked me.”

“What if we called your dad to—”

“No. Please.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “Dad can’t know who the father is. I hate saying that because he’s Dad, and I love him, but he’s also Dad. The man who can’t keep a secret to save his life. If I do this—”

“Then no one can know,” she says quietly.

“For the baby’s sake. Yes. He or she needs to know they come from a place of love, not from one of abandonment.”

“This doesn’t sit right with me, Bristol.”

I reach across the table and grab her hands. Tears well and I blink them away. My emotions are all over the fucking place with these hormones. “I know, but this is my decision, and I need you to respect it. I confided in you because I value your opinion. I told you because I can’t do this alone. I know you think I’m jumping the gun and don’t know the half of it when it comes to parenting. And you’re right. I don’t. But neither does anyone else. Isn’t that the beauty and the pain in it? All I know is that this baby was made out of a love that I’ve never felt with anyone else.”

“You’re young. You have a life ahead of you to replace a love that’s even better. That’s even sweeter.”

She doesn’t understand. I saw the love between her and my father. It was subtle and understated. I know the love I felt with Vince, even at a young age. It was unrelenting and unique.

“I can’t explain it. You just have to respect it.”

“Vince has a right to know.”

“He does.” I blink away more tears and ignore the burning in my chest. The same burning that I felt when I imagined a life together with him and our child. The same damn burning that turned to utter heartbreak when he refused to call me back. When he refused to take my calls. “He’s the one who has blocked my number. He’s the one who gave that interview I just played for you saying he has no desire to have kids ever.”

“Saying it and meaning it are two different things.”

“You weren’t the one the road manager humiliated when he offered to give me a thousand dollars to use as I please—okayed by Vince himself.”

“You don’t have to keep the baby. There’s no shame in admitting you’re not ready. In making a choice for you and your own future.”

I close my eyes and quiet the tears. “I’m not being naïve in this. I know it’ll be tough. I know it’ll derail my plans for a while, but this is my decision. I’m keeping it.”

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