“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
“You’re pregnant?” I feel his hand tighten on mine. “Is there anyway the tests could be wrong?”
“It’s possible, but Alex, all four say I am pregnant,” he loosens his hold a bit. “I called my aunt, she’s an OB/GYN, and I have an appointment on Tuesday,” I pause and glance at him. He’s pale. “You don’t have to do this. I’m giving you a free pass. If you don’t want to or if you can’t, you can walk away right now and I can figure this out; raise this child myself. I won’t hold it against you,” He looks at me, studies me face.
“You’re serious. You really would let me walk away and raise our child yourself,” He looks astonished.
“There is no reason two lives need to be harder and I have the funds and resources for it, at least enough to help me until I graduate and get a job,” I don’t say that it scares me, that I don’t know if I can do it alone, but I don’t think I need to. He stays silent for a few minutes, and despite my words, I’m scared he might actually walk away.
“I don’t believe in abortion. Being adopted sucks. I also don’t think it is right for you to raise this child alone. So, my only option is to stay,” he looks me in the eye and I nod. “With that being said, I think we need to talk.” He goes back into my room and sits at the end of my bed, I throw the tests in the garbage and wash my hands before follow his lead, sitting against my headboard. Before either of us can utter a single word, Avery walks into the room.
“So...?” Alex looks to me questioningly and I shrug; she’ll find out anyways.
“I’m pregnant,” saying it out loud, confirming it to Avery, it cracks me and my heart stops. “I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby with a guy I don’t know. A guy who says he’ll stay but who will most likely leave, because that seems to be a pattern in my life right now. My baby, I’ll be a single mother and I can’t fail because if I fail then my baby will be the casualty,” Alex whispers something and I look to him. “What?”
“Our baby. Not your baby, she’s our baby. And I’m not leaving, I’m not going to leave you or this baby,” he meets my gaze and he’s serious. He doesn’t plan on walking away. “Marry me,” I stare at him.
“What?” Sara repeats, equally astonished.
“Marry me. We can move in together and raise this baby together. It won’t be easy, but we’ll do it. We can’t put our baby at risk. We can’t raise this baby and have separate lives, that won’t work. So, marry me,” I don’t respond; he’s crazy, I can’t marry him. I don’t even know him, except, it makes sense. The logical thing to do would be to marry him.
“Okay?” I nod. What the Hell have I gotten myself into?