Promises
“You asshole!” Liz screamed into the phone’s speaker despite hearing the dial tone on the other line. She slammed the receiver down, tears stinging her eyes.
She forced herself to slow her breathing, relaxing her grip on the piece of plastic before she broke the cheap landline that came with her one-bedroom apartment—the one she should have been sharing with the father of her child.
“You promised,” she whimpered, stepping away from the kitchen counter. Her hand slipped to her stomach, an unconscious habit she’d picked up since discovering her pregnancy two months ago.
What should’ve been a bit of drunken fun between friends who initially weren’t attracted to each other turned into a lifelong commitment, one Andrew didn’t seem keen on sticking around for.
Last month, he swore he’d be available to take her to her twelve week check-up—a promise he just broke, claiming he had to “house sit” for his Uber rich parents, the ones he hadn’t told about the baby, yet.
He’s never going to tell them.
The certainty sank into her bones like butter melting into hot rice.
Her stomach rumbled, and she rolled her eyes as she thought over her options.
Being a single mother hadn’t been on her bingo card, and her meager bank account barely sported enough money for food and transportation back and forth to work until next payday. Anything extra—like the copay for her doctor visit and whatever prenatal medication he would prescribe—remained out of her budget.
I’m so fucked.
More than when she first got pregnant by her “gay” best friend. Andrew left out the fact that he was bisexual and had been wanting to fuck her since he first saw her, which would’ve sent her running the opposite way. She hadn’t been looking for a long-term boyfriend, quick hookup, or a child.
Her head fell back, and she stared up at the water-stained ceiling, pondering if it’d be so bad if the ceiling collapsed, taking her and the shitty building with it.
“No more intrusive thoughts,” she murmured half-heartedly, not meaning a single word. All she had these days were intrusive thoughts.
She didn’t know how other mothers did it. Her child wasn’t even here yet, and she felt ready to throw in the towel.
Caressing her tiny bump, she strode to the front door slathered in chipped white paint, debating if she should pull a page from her mother’s book and ask one of her neighbors for a ride. Southern hospitality had been a thing growing up, and moving away…proved how precious and rare it was.
So far, she’d made zero friends—Andrew notwithstanding—and spent more time alone than anything else.
She was suffocating while everyone around her moved on with their lives, oblivious to the death occurring in front of them.
I have to live. For my baby.
She rolled her shoulders back and yanked her front door open, stepping past the threshold into the depressing hallway. Wallpaper peeled off the walls, stained carpet peered up at her, and music thumped through the walls, mingling with raised voices.
Everyone chose this apartment complex for its price value, not its amenities or soundproof walls—which were nonexistent.
Still, she suppressed a shudder and stalked next door after firmly pulling her apartment door closed behind her.
Her knuckles rapped insistently against the one door she never thought she’d dare approach.
Two weeks ago, Alexei Sokolov moved in and promptly ignored her efforts at being friendly neighbors, like the ones she knew growing up
As if this apartment could get any worse…
She’d held out hope that one day she’d befriend one of her neighbors, but so far, it’d proven to be a pipe dream.
Now, she was desperate.
The well-being of her child depended on her making a connection with someone—anyone.
When no response came, she knocked again, impatience and irritation boiling through her veins, Andrew’s false promises fueling the fire.
“Please come to the door,” she whispered under her breath, sensing another wave of tears bubbling up. Seconds ticked by and her shoulders drooped as time stretched on.
She took a step to the side, prepared to return to her apartment and cancel her much-needed appointment. An apology to her unborn child lingered on her tongue, but it died as soon as Alexei swung the door open, his emerald eyes spearing through her, a scowl fixed to his cruelly handsome face.
What the hell are they feeding the guys in Russia?
Alexei loomed over her by at least a full foot, his dark hair brushing the top of the door while his large frame filled out the opening.
She swallowed the extra saliva suddenly pooling in her mouth before going through with her ask.
“H-hi. I’m sorry to bother you but…” Shame burned up her neck. “I need a ride to a doctor’s appointment. My friend was supposed to take me, but he—”
“What kind doctor?” Alexei asked, his voice thick with an accent that sent shivers down her spine.
“Oh, uhh,” her hand dropped to her stomach, his piercing eyes tracking the movement, “a baby doctor—an OBGYN. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need—” The door swung shut, cutting her off as Alexei disappeared from view.
Her lips trembled and tears welled up again, ready to break the dam.
She turned away, taking another step toward her apartment, but she froze—again—when the door opened, followed by heavy footsteps and the jingle of keys.
“Come. I take you,” Alexei barked in that gruff way of his. She suspected it was his default.
The man didn’t mince words.
“Oh! Okay. Let me grab my insurance cards and stuff,” she squeaked without looking over her shoulder before scurrying toward her own apartment.
Looks like the silent Russian next door is taking me to my prenatal appointment.
She’d worry about a ride back after he dropped her off. Maybe she could pinch together enough money for a rideshare back to the apartment.
