by A. T Brennan
“Clay?”
“I knew it broke,” he admitted after a long pause.
“What?” She just stared at him.
“I knew it broke. I felt it and I kept going.”
He didn’t feel any better saying that out loud. There was no relief and no moment of peace after finally admitting the truth. If anything he felt worse, and she looked so shocked and surprised that he knew for sure she hadn’t figured it out before he’d told her.
“You what?”
“I felt it break, but I lost my head and I couldn’t stop—”
“You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t?” she cut in angrily.
Her face was flushed and her eyes were flashing at him. She was pissed, and he didn’t blame her.
“Didn’t,” he said, looking away.
“Clay, explain this to me.”
“It was right at the end. I felt it break and I was going to pull out, but I was right there and I lost my head.”
She just stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly.
“It was stupid. It was the worst thing I could have done, and I’ve felt like shit ever since that night—”
“You knew it broke, and you still finished inside me? What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t. That’s the problem.”
“Do you have any idea what you did?”
“I didn’t give you anything. I was clean; you were a virgin. It was wrong and it was fucked up but nothing happened.”
She was staring at him, and he could see anger and disbelief in her eyes. He didn’t blame her for reacting that way, but he was feeling a little defensive.
Unfortunately for her, he didn’t deal with anger well. He didn’t deal with people yelling or criticizing him, and he tended to go on the defensive and stay stupid things. Even as he tried to keep his head clear he could feel his walls going up.
“Nothing happened? Nothing happened? Do you have any idea why I really came here? Why I came to talk to you?”
“No.”
“That night something happened, Clay. Something big happened.”
“What?”
“I got pregnant.”
Her words echoed in his mind, and for a moment it was as if time stood still. He felt as though he was underwater, and he could hear the blood pulsing in his veins. He could feel the adrenaline rising in his body, and then the rage kicked in.
“What?” he almost roared at her.
She recoiled at the sheer volume of his voice, but she seemed to be just as angry as he was, and she held her ground.
“You got me pregnant, Clay. You felt the fucking condom break, but you still finished inside me and you got me pregnant!”
His mind was racing. She didn’t have a kid, he would know if she had a kid. What had she done with his child?
“How could you not tell me?” He stared at her. “How could you not tell me I was going to have a kid? Did you have an abortion?”
“No—”
“What, then? Did you adopt my kid out? Do I have a baby out there somewhere, and I don’t even fucking know it?” He was shouting. He knew he was shouting but he couldn’t stop.
He was shaking he was so angry. He had a kid?
“No—”
“The where the hell is it? Are you raising my baby—”
“I lost it!”
“What?” he almost whispered as he stared at her.
“I had a miscarriage. I lost the baby.”
“What?”
His rage had shifted to shock and even a little grief. She’d had a miscarriage?
“At almost three months.” He could see tears in her eyes as her voice grew quiet too. “One minute I’m pregnant and the next I wasn’t.”
“When did you find out?”
“The day of grad.”
“The same day we talked, and you said everything was cool and there was nothing more for us to talk about?” He was still in shock, so his voice was calm, but his mind was reeling. “You knew while you were sitting in my car, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know how.”
“Did everyone know? Did you tell everyone and not tell me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone, not a soul. You’re the first person I’ve told, ever.”
“What happened?” He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he needed to know.
“I found out the day of grad. For two weeks I tried to figure out what I was going to do. If I was going to have an abortion, have it and keep it, or have it and put it up for adoption. I couldn’t go through with an abortion.”
“You were going to have it?”
“Yes. I took the vitamins, did everything they tell you to do when you’re pregnant. I went to the doctor to make sure everything was okay.” She looked away, and he saw a single tear fall down her cheek.
“Jenna?”
“I had an ultrasound. I knew the date, but the doctor wanted to make sure everything was normal. I went alone and I saw it. I saw the tiny little baby, and I saw its heart beat. Then two weeks later I started bleeding, and it was over.”
He just stared at her. He didn’t know what to think or what to say.
“I didn’t go to the doctor after. I was in shock and I left to go to school. I got an infection, a bad one. It took time to clear up, and it made everything so much worse, but other than the doctor at the health clinic I never told anyone about it. I told everyone it was a stomach flu.”
“I don’t know what to say—”
“Neither do I. Not after that bombshell you dropped on me.”
“Are you okay now? Is everything okay, there?” He nodded to her midsection.
“Should be. They said they caught it in time, and it shouldn’t have any lasting effects, but I won’t know for sure until I try to get pregnant again.”
“Fuck…” He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.
“That’s what I came here to tell you about.” She looked at him. “The guilt of not telling you, the trauma of going through all of that alone has been eating me up for a year and a half, and I needed to tell you.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“You didn’t know I was fertile at the time, but you still chose to finish inside me, and you got me pregnant.”
“What were you going to do?”
“Give it up for adoption.”
“Without telling me?”
“I was going to tell you at winter break. I had a plan. I was going to go to school for the first semester, come home at winter break and tell you, get you to agree. Then I was going to have it here and give it up.”
“When would you have been due?”
“February twenty-eighth.”
“What if I hadn’t agreed?”
“I would have tried to get you to see my point.” She shook her head. “I was eighteen, and I was terrified. I was supposed to be starting my life, and in that moment it felt like my life was ending.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“We had sex once, and you ran away after. We weren’t friends. We barely knew each other or had talked beyond the casual in years. I didn’t know you, and I felt like it was something I had to figure out.”
“It was half mine.”
“But it was in me.” She shook her head. “I was the one who was pregnant. I was the one who was carrying it, and all I could see was how it would affect me. I was the one who would be giving up a semester of school. I was the one who was going to get huge and have to give birth. I was the one who was going to carry it and then have to hand it over to someone else to raise while I went on with my life. I was young and selfish, and I wasn’t thinking straight because I was so terrified. All I saw was how it affected me and I had to plan around me.”
“Did you think about keeping it?”
“I did. I almost was going to, but it wouldn’t have been fair. I was in no place to raise a child. It wasn’t fair
to my parents, and it wouldn’t be fair to a kid. It would be better for everyone if it’d gone to a home where it could be spoiled and looked after by two parents.”
“It would have had two parents.” He felt the anger rising again at her statement. Did she really think he would have abandoned his own kid?
“Two single parents.” She shook her head. “We weren’t together.”
“So you think I would have just turned my back on my own baby?”
“Why are you shouting at me?”
“I would never have done that. I would never, ever, have abandoned my child.”
“Clay—”
“You ever notice how young my mom is? Ever notice how I have no dad and lived with my grandparents?”
“Clay—”
“My dad abandoned my mom when she was pregnant. She was fourteen, fifteen when she had me. I’ve never met my father. He’s never reached out to me, and other than some sporadic child support he never did dick for me. I would never have been like him.”
“I didn’t know that. Even if that’s true, you really think being a part-time dad would have been the best thing for you? You really think it wouldn’t have fucked up both of our lives?”
“We’ll never know now, will we?”
“I came here to tell you the truth, and I find out all of this happened because you made a choice.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what you would or wouldn’t have done because it’s over. Nature took care of things, and I had no choice.”
“But you would have tried to take mine away?”
“I’m not going to fight about this with you, not anymore. I told you, you told me, and now there are no more secrets. We both kept a secret, and we were both wrong.”
“I really don’t know where to go from here.”
“I can say the same thing.”
“What about this time—”
“You knocked me up once. You don’t have super sperm, Clay. It didn’t break, and I have an IUD so we’re safe.”
They stared at each other for a moment. She was the one to look away first and hastily stood up.
“I’m sorry for lying to you.”
“So am I.”
“I hope you have a good life.” She looked at him, and he could see the sadness in her eyes.
“Yeah, I hope you do too.”
After another pause she nodded and headed toward the door, and he just stared after her.
He’d spent weeks, months worrying she might have fallen pregnant, and when he hadn’t heard anything he’d let that worry go. Now, after all this time, he’d learned that he’d had every cause to worry. And the entire situation was his fault.
He hadn’t pulled out. He hadn’t stopped because he’d been so wrapped up in his own pleasure.
All of this was his fault. Everything she’d gone through, everything that had happened to her was his fault. She would never forgive him, and he didn’t know if he would ever forgive himself.
* * * *
Jenna was in shock.
She didn’t know what to think about anything that had gone on in Clay’s living room.
He’d known the condom had broken, and he’d still finished. She knew there was always a chance she could still have gotten pregnant even if he’d pulled out, but the chances were a hell of a lot lower than him actually finishing inside her.
He’d lied to her, just as she’d lied to him.
She knew she’d been wrong in not telling him, but he’d been even more wrong for not telling her about the condom.
She didn’t know if she felt better about anything, or if she felt worse. All she knew was she was beyond confused. It would take a long time for her to process everything and figure out how she felt about any of it.
She didn’t know how either of them could ever trust the other again, and it was probably best that they’d ended things the way they had. They’d had a great afternoon, she’d gotten to be with him again without all the drama and running away, and they’d parted on good terms.
Then she’d fucked everything up by telling him what had happened, and he’d shattered her world with his confession.
Any hope of a connection, any thoughts she’d had about maybe reconnecting with him were gone.
The best thing for them was distance. It would be best for both of them if they just forgot about each other and moved on with their lives.
Chapter 9
The Real World
2010—After Graduation
“HOME, sweet fucking home,” Jenna muttered to herself as she lugged the last box into her childhood bedroom. She hauled it up and put it on top of the pile and looked around.
She didn’t want to unpack.
This wasn’t what she’d envisioned her life to be after graduating from her program. She’d never thought moving home would be her only option. The thought of unpacking all of her things and making herself at home was depressing.
“It’s just temporary,” she said quietly, and then stopped as she realized she was getting dangerously close to answering herself.
Her parents were at work. Dan had moved out the year before, and she had the house to herself. She flopped down on her bed and wondered how she was going to make this work.
Moving home was a temporary thing. She just needed a place to stay while she found a job and a place to live. She had to keep reminding herself she wasn’t taking a step back by moving back in, and she had to keep remembering this was the best option she had. It was the only option that wouldn’t put her further into debt.
When she’d graduated with no job prospects, her parents had told her to come home. They would let her live there as long as she was actively looking for work. When she had a job and a place to live lined up, they would help her move her things and set up her apartment.
She’d spent the past four years in a dorm so everything she had was personal. She didn’t have any furniture or even cooking utensils, and she was really grateful to her parents for helping her out financially.
Right now she was sitting on about thirty thousand dollars of debt, and without a job she was broke. She needed to find work so she could start paying back her loan. Without her parents she would have just gone further into debt.
She was lucky, she knew that, but it didn’t help when she was sitting in her childhood room at twenty-two, wondering if she would ever feel like she was in control of her life.
The other thing she was worried about how she would live in her parent’s house again. After four years on her own and only coming home on holidays and during the summer, she wasn’t exactly sure how things were going to work. Her parents had said she could come and go as she pleased, but she needed to help out around the house and keep them apprised of her job search.
That didn’t sound so bad. At least now she had her own room and didn’t need to share with a roommate.
The other issue she was having was she was bored.
She’d been gone for so long she’d lost touch with everyone who’d stayed in town, and all of her friends from school had either stayed in the city or moved away. She didn’t have anyone to call or to hang out with. It was isolating to think she would be alone as she tried to set up the rest of her life.
She flopped down on her bed and lay back. She didn’t feel like thinking right now. She had nothing but time on her hands, and she could think later.
* * * *
“Did they call you today?”
Jenna looked up to see her parents standing in the doorway to the living room.
“You’re home.”
“Yes, we’re home.” Her dad nodded. “Did they call?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “They called.”
“That’s not a happy face,” her mom said as she looked at her closely.
“No, it’s not.” She put her book down and leaned back against the chair. “I’m at the top of their list, but at the moment they don’t have anything to offer me.”
>
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, Mom. I was really counting on them offering me a job.”
“They told you they had a position for you; you did your internship there—”
“They told me they might have a position for me.” She cut her dad off. “Might. I’m the idiot who put all my efforts into them and didn’t follow up with any other companies.”
“Sweetie—”
“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. I’ve been waiting for two months for them to get back to me, and then on the eve of the deadline they call me and say there’s no job. That’s two months I’ve wasted and now I have to start all over.
“Did they at least say why?”
“Budget cuts. The position they were going to offer me has been cut.”
“Well, you’ll start over again. Look in a new direction and find something different,” her dad said pragmatically.
“Maybe I shouldn’t even bother looking in my field.” She sighed. “I need a job. Maybe it’s too much to ask to actually use my ridiculously expensive education right now.”
Her parents just looked at each other.
“I know. It’s what you’ve been telling me for two months. I’m just finally catching up.”
“You’re frustrated, and you’ve just had a huge disappointment,” her mom said kindly. “Why don’t you take the evening and go out? Just take some time to recharge your batteries.”
“I’m broke, and I have no friends.”
“We can give you some money—”
“You guys have done enough for me, really.” She shook her head. “I have enough to take myself to a movie or something.” She gave them what she hoped was a convincing smile and was happy when they nodded. They believed it.
“Just let us know if you need anything, okay?”
“I will, Dad. Thanks.”
She watched as her parents left the room and headed into the kitchen. Unfortunately for them they seemed to forget the walls weren’t soundproof. She could hear them talking as they started to cook dinner.
“I can’t believe they didn’t offer her the job.”
“I’m not surprised. They had her waiting for two months, that’s not good business practice.”
“I know we’d never do that.”