Series: Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Last week, I tried to run my shop and interact with people and put arrangements together, and the whole time, I had tears falling down my face. Josie had to come in and take over the last two days, so I could stay home with my head under the covers.
I walk in without knocking. My mom stands at the counter, throwing together a salad. I sink down in a kitchen chair, too exhausted to even go over and give her a hug.
“Hannah? What’s wrong, baby?” My mom rushes over and envelopes me in one of those mom hugs that usually makes everything better.
I cry into her shoulder. “I’m pregnant,” I blurt. “And I broke up with Armando.”
She squeezes me even tighter. “Oh, baby.” Her hand rubs circles on my back.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” She drilled it into me young to use birth control until I was married and ready to start a family, but I had to go and fuck it up.
“Don’t you worry about me,” she says. “Let’s worry about you, sweetheart. This is a lot.”
“It is.” A fresh spate of sobs come on.
“Hey, hey.” She gives me a little shake. “This is big. But you know you’re going to be okay, don’t you? No matter how things turn out?”
I sniff and nod into her shoulder. “I can’t tell if I made a mistake,” I say between sniffs and sobs.
“Ending things with Armando?”
“Yeah.” I pull away and wipe beneath my eyes. “But he was breaking my heart, you know? He said he couldn’t be my boyfriend because he was too messed up.”
My mom studies me, concern etched in the lines of her face. “Well, you’re allowed to change your mind.”
Fresh tears gush down my cheeks.
“What’s going on—” my dad says from the doorway, but my mom waves him away, and he quickly retreats.
“I don’t know, Mom. It just hurts so bad. I thought I would feel strong by ending things. I did feel strong while I did it. But now, I’m just a mess.”
“Yeah,” my mom says softly. “Breakups are never easy, even when they’re the right decision.”
My head snaps up, stomach tightening into a cruel knot. “Do you think it was the right decision?”
“I didn’t say that,” she cautions. “I don’t know what the right answer is. But I do know one thing. You’re smart and strong. And you have a huge heart. And I know you’re going to be able to figure this out successfully.”
I stare at her in despair. I want to believe her, but success feels completely impossible right now. I would settle for being able to turn off the water works for five minutes.
“What do I do about Armando?” I whisper, even though I know my mom, and she’s not going to give me the answer.
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. If you keep this baby, there'll be no getting rid of him. When you have a baby with a man, he’s in your life for the rest of your days whether the two of you are together or apart. Unless he chooses to walk away from his responsibility.”
“What if he never finds out?” I croak, knowing how wrong it is but still clinging to the idea.
“What?”
“I wasn’t going to tell him about the baby,” I admit in a whisper.
“Why not?” My mom’s voice sharpens.
I suck in a terraced breath. “Well, when he saw the test box, he freaked out. So I know he really doesn’t want it. That’s when I told him to leave. And I just lied and said the test came out negative.”
I sense the censure from my mom as she draws in a slow breath. “So let me get this straight. You broke up with him because he didn’t react the way you wanted him to when he was surprised by the idea of a pregnancy?”
I pull my lower lip into my mouth and suck on it. It sounds a little extreme when she puts it that way. “He’s emotionally unavailable,” I assert.
My mom nods slowly. “That may very well be, but it sounds to me like he was experiencing some emotion. Stress, maybe? Which is healthy. Because having a pregnancy you didn’t expect is a big deal.”
Well, yeah.
I wipe some more tears. “What should I do?”
“Well, the better question is what do you think you should do?”
I freaking hate when she says things like that. I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
My mom nods. “I think you probably do.”
My chest aches as I realize my mom calls bullshit on my I don’t knows, same as Armando, only nicer.
All the ways he paid attention to me flood my mind. He may have claimed he had nothing to offer, but it wasn’t true. He took care of me. He noticed when I was off or mad and didn’t let it slide. He tried to fix things when they were broken.